Wake of Darkness
by Uzumaki-sama
Summary: Months after vanishing, Cloud reappears in Radiant Garden, but he hasn't returned alone. Sephiroth has come to hunt. Leon expects only to witness another showdown of fate, not that he himself is about to become the darkness's next toy. SephCloudLeon
1. He Turned a Corner

For Baronesslamia. Thanks for waiting so patiently! This is going to turn out longer than I expected, but you know how I can't just write PWP stuff. So enjoy part one of four:D

**Warning: **This fic will later contain a whole variety of questionable material that is NOT SAFE for work. Or school. Or snoopy parents. You've been warned.

* * *

_**Wake of Darkness**_

_Part One  
_He Turned a Corner

-o-o-

Seventh Heaven was deserted today.

Beyond the propped open door, Leon could see gray clouds gathering in the afternoon sky, casting the borough in a nervous gloom. He could smell it in the air, that wet muskiness of approaching rain. Radiant Garden was about to get its first storm of the season.

Most of Tifa's usual patrons were at home doing last minute preparations for the downpour like fixing leaky roofs. Leon, on the other hand, had other worries. The Garden's drainage system still wasn't in top shape. If too much rain fell today, the aqueducts could flood along with half the town. All morning he had been helping clear channels for the water to flow out through other underground conduits, but he had been called away to run errands for Tifa.

Every day at noon, she delivered lunch to whoever was working in the bastion at that time. However, for the better part of the morning today, she had been wrestling with a faulty cooler and didn't have time to make the trip to the bastion herself. That was where Leon came in.

Delivery Boy Leonhart.

He hadn't been amused, but he didn't want to see what Cid—or worse, _Aerith_—had in store for him if he refused to take them their lunches.

"Remember, the one with the white wrapper has cheese," Tifa said as she tucked a few small packages into the delivery bag. "That's Aerith's sandwich, _not _Cid's."

As he stood there leaning against the counter with his arms crossed, waiting for her to finish packing the delivery bag, he glanced around and tried to remember the last time he had seen her bar so empty. Since the first day she had opened it—which had been several months ago, shortly after Sora had left—every table in this place had been full.

She had only stayed in Radiant Garden and opened her bar because this was where Cloud and Sephiroth had disappeared. She was still waiting for Cloud's return. One time he had overheard Cid asking her why she'd stuck around this time, and she had answered with a simple: _Because I'm his light, and he needs me._

Leon still didn't really get it, but then... Sora had held a similar attitude about his own friends. Defeating the darkness, searching for his light...

"Also, don't forget to tell him I need him to fix the second cooler in the back. I am _not_ gonna deal with the same problems tomorrow when people are actually here ordering stuff."

Behind him, Tifa's bag shuffling continued, and he searched the gray sky, thinking about what they had told him about Cloud's sudden disappearance. Apparently even Sora had been present, but Leon had been in the marketplace at the time.

Except for an occasional spar with Cloud, Leon hadn't been as close to him as the others had been, mostly because something about Cloud's personality had always rubbed him wrong. Leon still recalled the time the girls had told Cloud to help Leon out with some of the reconstruction, and Cloud had outright told them that he didn't care what happened to this place. Their _home_.

"There, that should do it. Your sandwich is in here, too. I ran out of white grape juice for Aerith, so give her the fresh milk that's in there, okay?"

Leon had spent nine years in Traverse Town yearning to return home and then another year trying to rebuild that home just so he could finally put the past behind him and move on in his life. For Cloud to say something like that, it really pissed him off.

"Okaaay?"

Whatever. Even if Cloud had his own demons of the past to chase, disappearing with Sephiroth like that was selfish. It made the girls worry. Tifa and Aerith rarely brought the situation up, but he could tell they wanted to and that they often thought about it. The questions were unspoken but still there. Where had Cloud gone? Had he defeated Sephiroth for good? Would Cloud come back this time?

Even Leon had to sometimes wonder about it. Not that he'd admit it out loud.

"Hey! Earth to Leon! You even listening to me?"

Drawn out of his thoughts by the strong fist that connected with his arm, he internally winced and turned to glare at her.

"Got your attention now?" she teased, flexing her hand. "You can brood _after _you finish the errand, Delivery Boy."

"Whatever." He studied the white delivery bag, which was now tied shut, and he grabbed it by the knot on top. His arm throbbed in protest, and he made a mental note to look for a bruise later. At least she hadn't put her normal force into the blow; he'd seen her fight plenty of times and knew how deadly those fists of hers could be. For now, he brushed off the momentary pain and pushed away from the counter. "I'll try to make it back before the rain hits."

"And don't forget to tell Cid about the cooler!" she called at his back.

He lifted a hand in acknowledgement as he left the bar and stepped onto the street. Taking the side path towards the bailey, he fell into deep thought almost immediately.

Having traveled this road so many times, he expected to one day find his boot treads worn into the stone. He knew the path by heart and didn't have to look to know where he was going, so he could afford to let his mind wander—at least until he strayed farther from the safety of the borough. The town's defense mechanism took care of a majority of the heartless, but it never hurt to be prepared. Especially on gloomy days like this.

He couldn't help getting the distinct feeling that something was going to happen. There had been a storm the night Radiant Garden had first fallen, and he had never outgrown the memory of that fear.

But he knew he couldn't be the only one who felt strangely unsettled by these clouds; he had noticed it all day, little details like how Tifa had been wearing her fighting gloves, not her casual ones. His own weapon hadn't left his side since he had first seen the heavy clouds gathering on the horizon. Even now, the gunblade's solid weight hanging from his belts spelled security for him.

Though the unnatural silence of the bailey did nothing to ease his nerves. He was used to at least a few heartless showing up to investigate which heart was wandering away from the town, but today—nothing, not even as he passed through the gates and descended the stairs to the restoration area. Only the trickling of the fountains followed behind him.

He came to a pause at the bottom of the stairs and glanced up at the whiter clouds overhead. These were thin enough for him to spot the faint outline of the sun directly above him.

Noon.

At least he was on schedule. Tifa was never late with their lunch, and he knew this from how often he himself was at the end of her deliveries to the bastion.

Smiling a little, he adjusted the bag in his hand and continued towards the gate that would take him to the restoration site. Despite the absent heartless, everything else was as it should be. The same trail every day usually yielded no surprises: the small gate would be closed, and beyond it would be the heartless-infested area, and beyond that the path would open up and lead to the postern. No surprises.

At least, there shouldn't have been.

The gate was open when he arrived. Usually Cid was anal about having people keeping it closed, so they were careful about doing so.

Trying not to think much of it, Leon passed through the gate and closed it behind him, but the suspicion was hard to ignore. It piqued his discomfort enough that he planned to ask Cid about it when he got to Ansem's old study and delivered their sandwiches.

He followed the familiar path, stepping over fallen sheets of metal and steel pipes, wanting to reach the end of the reconstruction zone quickly. The lack of heartless still hadn't escaped his attention. Every other time he had taken this path, he had been stopped by at least two teams of the creatures, and this silence was beginning to grow more than just unnerving.

When he saw the brass drainage pipe ahead, he released a long breath, knowing he was almost there, and just in time. He was starting to get hungry. Plus, the gray clouds had drawn much closer. Soon the wind would pick up, the temperature would drop, and the sky would reign its fury down on the small town. He didn't want to be caught out here when that happened. The bastion wasn't a great place to get stranded, either, but at least it was shelter. Out here, he was at the complete mercy of the elements.

Starting to hurry, he passed the drainage pipe and continued along the path, expecting to see the postern just around the bend. Just a few more minutes and he'd be safe...

But when he turned a corner, safety became the last thing on his mind.

A person was lying in the middle of the path.

Leon froze several meters away, his hand automatically moving to his gunblade as he mistook the dark clothes and wicked wing for a heartless. But that head of yellow spikes was instantly recognizable. And in that instant, Leon forgot any hard feelings he had held minutes ago for the man who had been missing for months.

"Cloud!"

He sprinted forward and skidded to a stop beside the fallen figure, kneeling at once and dropping his bag of food so he could roll Cloud over to get a better look at him. He was still wearing the clothes he had disappeared in, but they were tattered and stained with shades of blood long dried, though Cloud didn't seem to have a scratch on him.

What caught his attention the most was what he saw through the holes in Cloud's one long sleeve—hints of dark skin, nothing like the soft peach of the rest of him. Black skin? Was he sick? He didn't _seem_ ill, but his eyes were closed and he was motionless.

Leon rested a hand on the man's forehead.

Still warm.

As if responding to his touches, Cloud's wing shifted. Leon's eyes focused on the dark appendage, and he remembered that Cloud hadn't had it before he had disappeared. Actually, if he recalled correctly, he hadn't seen it since that first month they had gotten their home back.

Why had the wing returned? Plus, that black skin...

Curious, he began to reach for the torn sleeve to get a better look at Cloud's tainted arm, but a flutter of color captured his attention.

Blue eyes were watching him.

Leon's breath caught as he met that gaze, almost as if careful not to scare it away, but Cloud himself seemed to be having trouble keeping focused. His lashes fluttered again, then opened, the blue once more trying to discern Leon's face.

There was a moment in which they studied each other, refamiliarizing the subtle details of one another's faces—with Leon mentally tracing the pale brows and green freckles in his eyes, just as how Cloud was staring at the scar across his forehead. It took a moment, but Cloud's senses seemed to clear, and when they did, the muddled confusion on his face rapidly hardened into a grave intensity.

In a fierce tone that was so soft it hardly reached Leon's ears, he warned:

"Get out of here."

Cloud's arm reached out, smooth and quick, and Leon felt fingers clamp around his pant leg—but when he glanced down, he felt a chill creep up his spine. What he saw were not the pale fingers he had expected. Cloud's sleeve had fallen back, revealing the tainted skin beneath, as well as a set of fiendish claws more heartless than human.

_What?_

Alarmed, Leon started to back away, but then he noticed how tense Cloud's body had grown. Even his wing was now drawn behind him like a wolf's ears pressed to its skull.

Then Cloud's sharp gaze flickered upward and focused on something behind Leon, just as a single black feather drifted between them.

A creak of leather was the only other warning Leon had before he felt the cold press of a blade at his neck, and a low, sultry voice spoke into his ear.

"I was expecting the woman..."

Soft feathers caressed his arm, and Leon drew in a sharp breath. The flat side of the blade stroked beneath his chin as he slowly, cautiously turned to glance behind him.

Silver hair tickled his cheek as vibrant green eyes met his, only centimeters away, and Sephiroth's lips curled into a dark, dark smile.

"But you will suffice."

-o-o-

* * *

_  
To be continued..._


	2. Greater the Shadow I

This time I tried to capture the Final Fantasy and KH styles of physics-defying stunts and attacks while also trying to give it a grittier edge. Fight scenes are difficult enough, so I hope I managed to pull it off well!

**Warning: **This fic will later contain a whole variety of questionable material that is NOT SAFE for work. Or school. Or snoopy parents. You've been warned.

-o-o-

_**Wake of Darkness**_

_Part Two  
_Greater the Shadow (I)

-o-o-

"But you will suffice."

Leon knew he was staring death in the eyes.

The way Cloud had been lying there in the path, the way he had tried to warn Leon, and the way Sephiroth had so easily caught him with his back turned—it had been a _trap_, and one made with all the cunning of a predator.

But not a trap meant for _him... _

_"I had been expecting the woman," _Sephiroth had said.

Tifa. He was using Cloud as bait to get to Tifa.

No one could have known Leon would be taking over her errands today. Maybe it was an awful turn of luck for him, but he only had one thought as he reached for his holstered gunblade: better _him_ than one of the girls.

Turning his long blade, Sephiroth pressed the sharp side against Leon's throat in warning, his gaze unwavering. "If you value your life, stay your hand."

Leon's hand froze halfway to his weapon. He clenched his jaw and narrowed his eyes, but Sephiroth's dark smile only spread at the sight of his defiance. He pressed the blade higher to lift Leon's chin, who tensed and obeyed the silent command. He had heard enough stories about Sephiroth's skills with the Masamune to know when to swallow his pride.

As he tilted his head up, he felt Sephiroth's eyes scan his face as if appraising him. Leon was sure Sephiroth was reading his every breath and heartbeat and would be expecting any stunt he might pull to get out of this mess, but Leon's entire body was alert and ready to react anyway. He wasn't scared. Just cautious.

"On your feet."

Sephiroth's tone left no room for challenge, which meant no room for error.

Cloud struggled to pick himself up from where he lay at Leon's feet. "_Sephiroth_..." His hoarse voice carried an edge to it that exposed how much danger Leon was actually in. "He has nothing to do with this!"

If Cloud was distressed, let alone this debilitated, Leon had every reason to worry; Cloud was one of the strongest warriors he knew, if not _the _strongest between Sora and Sephiroth. With Sephiroth's attention on him, Leon knew he wouldn't stand a chance when things turned ugly. But one thing was for certain.

He sure as hell wasn't going down without a fight.

Sephiroth remained unfazed by Cloud's words. "I will be the judge of that," he replied smoothly. His eyes, however, had a different story. They thinned at Leon, the threat clear. "And I won't repeat myself."

He pressed the blade harder against Leon's neck, this time purposely nicking his skin and drawing a hint of blood.

It looked like Leon wouldn't be finishing that delivery for Tifa today. He shifted to get to his feet, his gaze still locked with Sephiroth's, and when Sephiroth saw that he was going to obey the command to rise, his blade pulled back just a fraction.

That was enough for Leon.

Instead of reaching for his weapon again, he grabbed the fallen delivery bag and spun to his feet, swinging it at Sephiroth's head.

The long blade flashed upward, its movement so fast that Leon saw nothing but a blur—then the airborne bag split open and scattered its contents. Sandwich condiments took to the air, an explosion of bread and vegetables and sliced meat. Even Aerith's drink shattered and sent milk cascading in a spiral around them like radiant white confetti.

But before any of it could litter the parched ground, Leon sprang into action. He leapt back, a hand wrapped around the hilt of his gunblade. In one fluid movement, without even unholstering his weapon, he angled it on his belt towards Sephiroth, released the safety, and pulled the trigger.

Sephiroth's sword flashed again, and the bullet ricocheted off of it into a crystalline wall nearby. Then Sephiroth smirked and disappeared into a sphere of darkness, leaving only a drifting feather behind.

Positive this wasn't the end, Leon freed his gunblade from its holster just in time for Cloud's warning.

"_Squall!_"

Spotting the flicker of movement above him, Leon swung his blade up to meet Sephiroth's descending shadow.

Sephiroth's wing fanned behind him, a flare of glossy obsidian, as his sword clashed against Leon's in a brilliant spark of light. But before Leon could find firm footing to counterattack, a boot slammed into his chest.

He flew into the ground, the wind knocked out of him, but the impact was so powerful that he kept sliding across the dusty wasteland. Taking a deep breath, he threw his weight back and used his momentum to somersault to his feet—right as Sephiroth rained a whole series of close attacks down on him.

Leon gritted his teeth as he swung his gunblade up to defend himself against each blow, his mind already lost to the intensity of battle, no longer thought but pure instinct. This was a dance with the reaper himself, and Leon wasn't going to just bow his head and submit to this bastard's whims.

With a fierce clang of metal against metal, Leon shoved against their blades to gain some space, and when his adversary backed a step, Leon twisted around with a swift slice to his chest. The tip of his weapon caught one of the belts of Sephiroth's coat, but the rest of his blow was brushed aside before Sephiroth teleported away again.

This time he appeared across the clearing. With the grace of a falling feather, he slowly floated downward and touched upon the ground. He folded his wing behind him and glanced down at his coat. Leon noticed he had indeed snapped one of the belts of the man's armor, and Sephiroth's smirk was gone.

Controlling his quickened breath, Leon readied his gunblade, expecting that the worst was yet to come.

Above, the once distant storm clouds had drawn close, bringing with them the heavy scent of approaching rain, a gray overcast, and the deepening rumble of thunder. Everything else had fallen to a hush, even Cloud, who had pulled himself onto his knees despite his weakened condition.

Sephiroth, with a casual flick of his hand, brushed his coat off. "Hmph. You have a lot of nerve." But his lips curled back into the smile he had worn minutes before, and he lifted his eyes from beneath his bangs to directly look at Leon. "Or perhaps just a death wish."

A trickle of sweat slipped down Leon's cheek, and he tightened his grip on his weapon, his gloves creaking. Then, with a slow, deliberate shift of his feet, he moved to stand protectively in front of Cloud.

Sephiroth's smile widened again. "How cute. Like protecting a cub." He lifted the Masamune. "He isn't the one you should be worried about. You see..." He focused on Cloud, pointing the blade in his direction, and Leon flicked his gaze to the blond, who was struggling to get to his feet again. His wicked wing arched and trembled with his effort, and at the sight of it, Sephiroth's voice drawled with dark delight. "He already belongs to me."

Leon glanced away from Cloud and met Sephiroth's gaze once again.

Those catlike eyes gleamed at him with predatory intent. "You, on the other hand..."

Leon stiffened at the look, the hairs on the back of his neck rising as a chill crept into him. He really didn't want a firsthand account of how Sephiroth defined _belonging_.

Behind him, a growl of frustration escaped Cloud as he fell back onto his hands and knees, too unsteady to support himself. But his sense of determination fervently carried through in his tone. "_No_, your fight is with _me_, leave them alone!"

_Them._

The fact that this had been an ambush for Tifa hadn't left Leon's mind yet, but the fresh reminder rekindled his own resolve. He wasn't just fighting for himself. Tifa, Cloud, and maybe even the others—they were also in danger.

His fingers clenched harder around the grip of the gunblade, his voice like fractured ice. "You're not going to hurt anyone else."

"Oh?" Sephiroth's wing shifted up at the challenge and peacocked, those feathers fanning outward to show off their dark plumage. Sephiroth's smirk was back, and it had a lethal edge to it. "I think otherwise."

Leon was expecting the assault, and he was expecting it to be brutal.

But when Sephiroth sprung forward to attack, the movement was so fast that it almost looked like he had teleported again—but he hadn't. One powerful thrust of that wing sent him flying at Leon with impossible speed.

The only reason Leon was able to meet his blade in time was his past experience with Yuffie; years of dealing with her abrupt ninja stunts had long ago honed his reflexes for dealing with the unexpected. If he got out of this alive, he'd have to go a little easier on her as thanks... but only a little.

Leon stood up to the barrage, blocking each lash of that formidable sword, but the force behind the blows began to drive him backwards—first one step, then two—and worry twisted in his gut as he realized he'd be on top of Cloud within moments.

Panic fueled the fire spell he sent straight into Sephiroth's face, but when the smoke cleared, Sephiroth had already vanished—teleporting again?!

Without warning, something blunt and hard jammed into his jaw. Pain lanced straight through him and sent off an explosion of stars behind his eyes. He felt a grunt escape him as he staggered to the side, blood from his bitten tongue dribbling from the corner of his mouth, but he shoved away the distractions and jerked his weapon around to catch Sephiroth's side.

With a sharp flap, the warrior easily avoided the attack, but then—

Cloud's clawed hand clamped onto one of the small wings emerging from beneath Sephiroth's coat.

Even though Sephiroth slightly stumbled, he recovered quickly enough to spin around and sink his blade into Cloud's shoulder. Just like that. Not a fraction of hesitation in his movements.

"Aggh!"

As Cloud fell back with a cry of pain, Leon was already striking at Sephiroth's exposed back.

But before his blade could make its mark, Sephiroth managed to meet it with the Masamune, sparks dancing before Leon's eyes again. A thin stream of blood trailed down the sword's length, and Sephiroth's expression grew vainglorious.

"You were saying?"

Leon growled and pushed his weight against Sephiroth, flinging his gunblade up and pulling the trigger.

Flying back, Sephiroth deflected the shot again, and this time the bullet's ricochet barely missed Leon's leg.

_Damn it, he's too fast!_

He held his gunblade at guard as Sephiroth calmly began stepping to the side, almost with a prowl to his walk as he kept his gaze locked on Leon—who cast a quick glance at Cloud to make sure he was okay. Cloud was anything _but_, but at least he was a somewhat safe distance away.

"Don't worry," Sephiroth stated with an amused lilt. He had noticed Leon's worried glance. "He'll heal." His prowling came to a stop, and he slowly stretched a hand towards Leon. A sphere of darkness began to grow within his palm, quickly igniting into a ball of fire instead. "Quicker than you." Flames dancing in his eyes, he threw his arm skyward.

A line of fire shot into the air and billowed outward into a massive column of flame—a white-hot, whirling inferno that continued to expand. Leon drew away from the conflagration's stifling heat and squinted into its intensity, trying to catch sight of Sephiroth amongst the light—

That was the least of his problems, however.

He felt himself beginning to slide towards the inferno.

Digging his heels against the solid ground, he managed to slow his advance, but the blazing whirlwind steadily tugged him closer and closer like an invisible hand had taken hold of him.

All around him, the gravitational force caught debris and flung it through the air—shards of crystal, twisted pieces of old wires, steel pipes, shards of scrap metal. Though everything breezed over Cloud, it all came straight toward Leon.

He ducked a rusty pipe spinning towards his head and began to sprint against the hidden current, his legs feeling like they were moving in slow motion because of the dragging force. As the debris closed in on him, he ducked to avoid the ones he could and used his gunblade to cleave into and deflect the rest, but when he saw a large drainage pipe sailing for him, he threw himself onto the ground, feeling the pipe sweep past and graze the fur of his jacket.

When he clambered back to his feet, he began to slide towards the burning column again but noticed that Cloud had been dragged close to him. The man's dark wing flapped against the powerful pull and his fingers scrambled against the barren path for a handhold, but there was nothing between him and Sephiroth's fury except Leon himself.

Stabbing his gunblade into the ground, Leon held onto it as he knelt and grabbed onto Cloud's arm as the blond began to slide past. Cloud's heartless-like hand fisted into his white shirt in response, those vivid blue eyes flitting upward to meet his with silent acknowledgement.

Neither of them saw the scrap of metal flying at them until it was too late. Cloud's gaze flicked to the side as he spotted it, clueing Leon in—but with Cloud to hold onto, Leon couldn't avoid the impact completely.

The corner of the sheet caught Leon's sleeve, ripping the leather and tearing into his skin, before it spun off into the fire and left his arm searing with sudden pain. He gritted his teeth to stifle his voice, but from how quickly he felt warmth soaking his sleeve, he knew the wound had to have been bad.

The roar of the inferno began to fade, and both of them turned their attention back to Sephiroth as the column of flame diminished into smoke and darkness. Though the attack had been an act of powerful magic, it had lasted only a few seconds, and Sephiroth still stood calmly where he had been before summoning the attack.

He regarded the two of them with a secretive half smile.

Rising to his feet, Leon plucked his blade from the ground and used his good arm to support its solid weight. Blood trickled down his glove, and he clenched his fist as he tried to ignore the raw burn of the cut. _It's just a scratch,_ he reminded himself. _You've had worse._

Then, at his feet, Cloud's soft tone: "You should have run."

Leon didn't glance at him. In a way, having Cloud of all people tell him _that_ only made him want to fight more. A few months ago, Cloud would have stood his ground and fought alongside him. Whatever Sephiroth had done to him, it had shadowed not only his body—with his tainted arm and wing as proof—it had also shadowed his soul. And that was one more reason Leon wasn't going to just let Sephiroth win without a battle.

He drew his other hand to his gunblade and gripped it tightly despite his bloody fingers. His arm throbbed in protest. "Maybe," he admitted. "But it's not my style."

Cloud offered him an empty laugh in response.

Undaunted, Leon sprang forward and charged right towards Sephiroth, releasing a resolute cry as his weapon glided through the air towards the winged warrior. Sephiroth watched, unmoving, and waited.

As Leon's blade descended, only then did Sephiroth react, his sword striking upward like lightning from the earth, and then _again_, as Sephiroth gave a sharp flap of his wing and pushed both of them into the air—and to Leon's disbelief, he felt his feet leave the ground.

He hadn't been scared before, but as he hung suspended in midair for that one second, and Sephiroth gave him a smile so dark it seemed to promise his defeat, that was when Leon felt his blood chill—because he knew his life was now in Sephiroth's hands.

Their blades struck again, setting off another explosion of sparks between them, and the powerful blow sent Leon tilting backwards as he flew upward without a wing of his own. Sephiroth chuckled and disappeared in a blur of darkness, and Leon knew he couldn't do anything to stop what was coming.

He lifted his gaze to the gray clouds above, felt the cool wind tickle his hair against his cheeks, and breathed in the scent of the encroaching storm. In that moment, his heart was louder than the storm itself.

Then—

A flurry of black and the rustle of feathers, and Leon had only a fraction of a second to defend himself as Sephiroth's sword lashed at him from out of nowhere.

Without a firm footing, his gunblade was an awkward weight, but he weakly managed to deflect the first attack before Sephiroth disappeared again.

This time he came from the opposite direction, and the blade caught Leon across the back, striking his shoulder blades like a snapped belt. And just as the pain radiated through him, Sephiroth flew at him from above and struck his side before he could block it.

By the third blow, Leon realized through the confusion that Sephiroth was attacking with the dull side of his blade—not to kill—only to hurt? The strikes were powerful enough to still break his skin, his shirt already sticking to his bleeding side as he twisted around in midair to attempt blocking the next attack.

Sephiroth's chuckle flew past him as he flayed him again, this one across his chest and snapping Griever's chain. Leon heard himself cry out as he caught sight of the silver lionhead falling to the ground below, but then Sephiroth was there smirking, and—_damn it!_—

Lash after lash after lash, nearly a dozen later, Sephiroth finally flew back to release him.

Gravity took hold, high above the bailey's crumbled walls, and Leon tumbled earthward after Griever. Blood rushing in his ears, he strained to aim his gunblade, and he fired it repeatedly, using the aftershock to turn himself in the air so that he fell heels first.

The impact was with blinding pain, stars erupting behind his eyes as fire seared through his body, every muscle and bone screaming to give up now—and his skin throbbing from the ruthless thrashes—

And only when the supernova began to clear from his eyes did he suck in a sharp breath and try to collect himself. He realized he had almost landed on his feet, but the force had sent him onto one knee, which was now a piercing ache. He could clearly feel the multiple strikes against his skin, each of them stinging with the intensity of real lacerations.

Throat closed up, he swallowed a few times to clear it, and when he breathed in again, it was with an audible shudder. He could feel his muscles quiver like dough stretched too thin, and as his knee threatened to give out on him, he drove the gunblade into the ground again to help keep himself upright.

He didn't dare open his eyes yet, feeling that his lashes were wet; he didn't want to see Sephiroth's graceful form landing in front of him, or see the triumphant gleam that would be in those catlike eyes, or see the understanding on Cloud's grim face.

Leon forced back the pain with steady breaths and pushed himself to his feet. His legs felt like they belonged on an old rag doll, with thread worn thin and seams ready to split, his entire body shaking violently as if on the verge of falling apart.

Thoughts scattered as he heard the scuff of Sephiroth's boots stop in front of him. His world carouselled around him, but he still lifted his gunblade to aim it at Sephiroth. Yet Leon felt it being brushed away immediately, a harmless child's toy without his focus to use it, and Leon could do nothing except struggle to remain standing as Sephiroth closed the distance between them.

Gloved fingers firmly cupped his chin and tilted his face up. Only then did he pry his eyes open, focusing through his pain to meet Sephiroth's smirk.

But instead of victorious, his expression was almost... amused. "A tough one, I'll grant you that," he murmured. He turned Leon's face to the side. "But still no challenge." Then he released him with a slow brush of his fingers along Leon's jaw. "Why not give up now while you're still breathing? I may grant you mercy."

That last sentence was a dark whisper to Leon's ear, one that sent a fierce shudder through him. The shaking aggravated his wounds and reignited the searing pain all along his body, and with a distressed groan, he collapsed back onto his knees, finding it too difficult to concentrate now.

"Leon!"

Aerith's voice?

He heard Sephiroth's boots shift as he turned to regard the newcomer.

"Yuffie, go get Tifa!"

"On it!"

Panic suddenly coiled in his gut, and a wash of adrenaline cleared his mind enough to register what was now going on. The girls were here. They were going to get Tifa—

He couldn't _protect_ them.

He lifted his head in time to see Yuffie's petite form sprint off towards the borough.

With a hoarse gasp, he struggled to get back to his feet. "No—!"

Right as Cloud cried the same: "NO!"

But Yuffie was long gone already. They were too late to stop her—! Tifa wouldn't be able to stand up to Sephiroth alone!

Then he saw the sweep of pink and white beside him as a familiar dress came into view, and his pounding heart squeezed with dread. "What are you doing here?" he demanded.

Not Aerith, not _here_—but he recognized the subtle scent of flowers that always followed her, and he felt her fingers gently slip into his hair. She _was _here, and he couldn't protect her like this.

"Tifa was late, and I had a bad feeling," she explained. Too calm. How could she be so undaunted by Sephiroth's presence? Her other hand rested between his shoulder blades, a soothing weight. "Don't give up."

The cool flow of magic rushed through him as she cast a high level healing spell, the smell of sweet nectar and mint saturating the air as green and yellow blossoms ghosted in and out of existence around him. His world found its axis again. The pain faded. So did the rag doll feeling, but not completely.

He _hadn't_ been planning on giving up, but if she hadn't shown up like this...

_Focus._

He couldn't think about what-ifs right now. He hadn't forgotten about Sephiroth yet.

He picked himself up, still shaky but stable enough to keep fighting, and he stepped in front of her. His gratitude was unspoken, but he knew she'd know it was there.

Closing both hands around his gunblade again, he faced the winged warrior, whose expression hadn't changed despite the interruption. He stood hardly two meters away, close enough to reach them with his sword without even moving.

What was Sephiroth waiting for? Was he that confident of his imminent victory?

Steadily breathing out, Leon glanced over his shoulder at Aerith. "It's a trap."

"I don't care," she said. He met her small but fearless smile. Her green eyes, however, reflected enough worry for himself and Cloud.

A deep chuckle returned their attention back to Sephiroth, who shook his head at the two of them. He finally lifted the Masamune in Aerith's direction. "Foolish girl."

"Both of you, _run_!" Cloud shouted from nearby, closer to Sephiroth than he was to them. "Get away from here!"

Shifting his attention to the fallen blond, Sephiroth laughed again. "Why are you trying to protect them?" His eyes slowly turned back to study Leon and Aerith. "Are they that important to you?"

With a grimace, Cloud drew his wing tightly against his back, once again like a threatened animal. Leon understood. As much as Cloud wanted them to escape in order to protect themselves, the more Cloud showed that he cared about them, the more attention Sephiroth would pay to them.

And any minute now, Yuffie would be returning with Tifa in tow. Their odds would possibly be greater then, but Leon was with Cloud on this one; he didn't want to see the girls getting hurt.

Sephiroth's sharp gaze focused on Aerith. "Shall I erase them as well?"

Leon instinctively drew an arm back to catch her wrist and pull her closer behind him. She wasn't so helpless herself, Leon knew, but she _was _without a weapon at the moment. The fingers she clenched into his torn jacket were firm, unwavering, yet she cooperated with his protective gesture.

Sephiroth's lips curled a fraction more.

Then he lunged forward, a mere blur again, and Leon wasn't surprised when there was no blade to deflect—Sephiroth used his impossible speed to sweep right past him and come at Aerith from behind instead.

Forgoing gentility to save her life, Leon jerked her out of the way and crashed his gunblade into the Masamune, shouting out to her. "Heal Cloud and get him out of here!"

By going for Aerith, Sephiroth had officially overstepped his boundaries. Hurting Leon himself was one thing; attacking an unarmed woman was another.

Leon struck at Sephiroth's blade with all of his force, a growl tearing from his throat as he pushed the bastard back to keep him preoccupied.

Behind him, he could hear Aerith's footsteps retreating towards Cloud, and that was enough of an encouragement for him. Sephiroth's wing beat at the air as he leapt back, and Leon took advantage of the opening between them.

He flicked his gunblade out to the side and concentrated, familiar but unnamed powers reawakening inside of him. It had been a while since he'd had the need to do this, but the energy was there and eager to react to his command.

It surged through him and sprung from his fingertips in a shimmering swirl. He lifted his gunblade into the air and focused on his weapon, the dancing aura surging forward to envelope the blade with an intense ethereal light. Then he lowered the weapon again and grasped it tightly between his hands. His eyes narrowed at Sephiroth.

The two men launched at each other at the same time, Sephiroth's sword slashing low as Leon leapt into the air, spinning the gunblade before angling it down to pierce his adversary. Sephiroth teleported away in another cloud of feathers, and as Leon landed, he twisted around without hesitation and struck.

His gunblade slammed into Sephiroth, who actually staggered back from the force, and Leon charged forward with another strike and a determined cry. Sephiroth parried and counterattacked, but Leon deflected the return blow.

The power beneath his fingers sung through him, and he listened to its call without question, his weapon now just an extension of himself as he fought hand in hand with Sephiroth, their blades crashing into each other with such intensity each time that Leon literally felt the shockwaves ripple through him.

Through the lightworks of their clashing weapons, Leon could see Sephiroth's smile clearly—an almost impressed gleam in those feral eyes—and Leon found himself half smirking back.

Then his blade struck Sephiroth's side and sent the man sliding from the impact. Sephiroth remained composed, not even a wavering of his gaze as he shifted his weight to find his footing—

And then he was gone. Another whisper of shadow.

Leon tensed, prepared for a teleportation trick, but this time it didn't come.

Sephiroth reappeared meters away and slowly ascended into the air, a magenta glow blossoming around him as he whispered something dark and indiscernible.

Somewhere behind him he heard Cloud's sharp, "_**NO!**_" and knew then that, whatever was coming, it would probably be worse than anything Sephiroth had already dished out.

That was when Leon felt—more than heard—the drone of _something_ descending around him. A sad whine filled his ears as if the magic itself were crying out in warning, and Leon stepped back to prepare for the worst as magenta settled around him.

But nothing could have prepared him for this.

One second, he was in control, he had his own powers simmering beneath his gloves and waiting to hit Sephiroth with everything he had.

The next moment, it was gone. Everything.

The invisible force sucked the air, his senses, his power, his purpose, his emotions, his thoughts, his _existence_—all of it—right out of him. It really _was_ like being erased.

And when his senses did return to him, slowly and painfully as if the sun were crawling through him, he choked out a hoarse scream and collapsed onto his knees, clutching his forehead. His head felt like it was caving in, his insides were fiery knots, and something close to acid trickled through his veins.

Somewhere in his panicked mind, he knew this was just the aftereffects of whatever Sephiroth had cast on him, but—

He almost would have preferred death over _this_...

Now he understood what had happened to Cloud.

His breath leaving him in ragged gasps, he clutched his throbbing forehead as Sephiroth approached. The weak effort he made to lift his now cumbersome weapon was quickly snuffed by a quick swipe of the Masamune.

The gunblade arched through the air and plunged into the earth behind him.

Something icy stung the back of his neck—then his arm—then along his back, and he realized dimly that the storm had finally reached them. Though he had fought so hard, Sephiroth had defeated him in under a half hour.

The sky opened up and pelted rain down on them, soaking into his hair and clothes and streaming down his skin. He doubled forward with a heavy shudder, his gloves slapping at the wet earth and leaving a smudge of red behind—blood from earlier.

The red washed into pink as it swirled into the puddles of milk from the shredded delivery bag that had brought him here in the first place.

His breath stuttered when a cold press of metal grazed his neck.

He lifted his gaze to glance at Sephiroth through his wet hair, and his eyes trailed upward, beyond the sword, beyond the glorious lilt to Sephiroth's lips, beyond the gray dampness of his own hair. Sephiroth's wing had spread outward like glistening black fingers reaching to touch the sky.

Leon had never felt so insignificant in his entire life.

The blade shifted against his wet skin, almost a soft caress against his jaw, and Sephiroth's smile took on a voracious tinge. "You're no Cloud," he admitted, "but... not bad."

Leon's heart gave a startled quiver at Sephiroth's words.

Thunder rumbled around them. Then there was the sing of metal scraping stone, and Sephiroth's gaze traveled to someone behind Leon.

It took every ounce of Leon's remaining willpower to lift his face to glance over his shoulder. Aerith was standing far to the side, out of harm's way, but she wasn't what had caught Sephiroth's attention.

Now healed, at least enough to be able to stand on his own feet, Cloud had plucked the gunblade from its resting place. His wing curved outward, the rain pitter-patting against the dark leather, and Cloud's blue eyes focused on Sephiroth with a look that was nothing short of glacial.

"Sephiroth."

"Cloud..." Sephiroth's delighted expression deepened with dark pleasure. He gestured to the weapon the blond clutched in his untainted hand. "That doesn't suit you."

Cloud's eyes narrowed a fraction.

He lifted the gunblade with steady ease and aimed it directly at Sephiroth.

"It'll do."

And with a flick of his thumb, he released the safety.

-o-o-

_To be continued..._

If you've come this far, please review?


	3. Greater the Shadow II

Wow, such an amazing response to that last chapter! I'm floored at how great you readers are. That was some of the best feedback I've ever gotten! And lots of great questions, too. The story will remain Leon's pov until the epilogue, which I haven't decided will be from his pov or someone else (a surprise). Anywho, here's the second half of the fight. I hope it's still a good read!

**Warning: **This fic will later contain a whole variety of questionable material that is NOT SAFE for work. Or school. Or snoopy parents. You've been warned.

-o-o-

_**Wake of Darkness**_

_Part Three  
_Greater the Shadow (II)

-o-o-

"It'll do."

The swell of hope that Leon felt when he saw Cloud standing—holding _his _gunblade—

"You know better than that, Cloud."

—was quickly smothered by Sephiroth's words and the unchanging smirk the man wore in response to Cloud's defiance.

_No..._

The word rose within Leon's throat but caught there as he glanced back at Sephiroth.

Even being soaked in rain, his dark form was frightening and beautiful. He held the Masamune's blade steady at Leon's throat, the quickening rain pelting against the metal in a series of soft, tinny rings. Water dripped from the glossy black tips of his wing and coat, and thinner locks of silver hair now framed his face. His eyelashes were dark, half lowered over his feline eyes, which seemed more unearthly than ever under the overcast sky.

Sephiroth lifted his free hand in Cloud's direction, his glove creaking as he curled his fingers—just a simple gesture. His expression didn't even change.

But Leon's attention snapped back towards Cloud as a scream tore from the blond's mouth.

Darkness had sprung up around him, or rather, from _within _him, smoky tendrils curling outward from his body like black flames. He collapsed back onto his knees with a hoarse cry, his wing snapping out and twisting inward again like a beaten animal.

The gunblade fell to the wet ground with a heavy clatter. All of Cloud's audacity from moments before had vanished, snuffed out as easily as a lit candle. Whatever Sephiroth had done to him over the past few months, he now had complete control over Cloud's body.

"I told you, Cloud." Sephiroth's voice was a delighted drawl again. "You belong to me."

...or did he? If Sephiroth had been compelled to set this ambush for Tifa, Cloud's light, maybe there was some part of Cloud that refused to give up. Even if the darkness had taken hold of Cloud's body, maybe his _heart_ was still resisting.

Leon had to keep fighting, too.

With every muscle in his body screaming to give up, to have mercy, to lie down and accept defeat, he struggled to get back to his feet anyway. As long as his heart was in the fight, he wouldn't give up, not with people left to protect.

"Oh? What's this?"

Sephiroth had noticed his movement, but Leon tried not to think about how the warrior could send him sprawling back into the puddle with just a simple shove. One foot at a time, that was all he focused on. He planted a boot firmly against the slippery earth and pushed himself up.

Teetering at the edge of focus, he saw Sephiroth lift his sword back to his throat. "You're more resilient than I had anticipated. However..."

The sudden slap of wet feet interrupted him, and his eyes shifted towards the sound, narrowing as he spotted Aerith running to help Cloud. Leon couldn't even rasp out a warning when Sephiroth flicked his hand in her direction.

Energy crackled in the air, diffusing the rain and bending the light into dark spheres, like small black suns scattered amongst the area. Aerith's sprint didn't falter, and Cloud screamed her name as the dark energy quickly honed in on her.

Her voice rang out at the last moment, and a gust of wind sprang into existence around her, swirling into a protective eddy that deflected even the rain itself. The darkness struck her aero spell one sphere after the other with staggering force and then exploded, powerful enough to knock her to the ground even though her magic protected her from the brunt of the attack. She fell with a splash, her windy shield scattering with a burst of dying air.

Disbelief coiled inside of Leon, tense and cold like a snake as Sephiroth waved his hand at her again, and Leon was too far to stop whatever was about to happen.

Aerith's fingers clenched over her heart as a globe of blue light ripped out of her chest and slingshot to Sephiroth's palm. His fingers closed around it, and it dispersed into a curl of smoke before disappearing.

Osmose.

Relief washed through Leon, trembling his knees, but he held his balance and watched Aerith pick herself out of the puddle she had landed in, shaken but still alive. Without her magic, she was out of the fight now, but at least she hadn't been hurt.

Sephiroth calmly flicked his wet wing and returned his attention to Leon. "Now, where was I..."

"Sayin' your prayers!"

Through the drumming rain, there came the heavy _SWOOSH _of something rapidly spinning towards Sephiroth.

The Masamune flew out and deflected the object with a sharp clang, and with the sword no longer pressed to his throat, Leon reacted without thought, throwing himself out of the way as Yuffie's shuriken pierced the earth where he had just been standing.

"Oh, _man_!"

Rolling to a stop, Leon glanced up to the top of the cliff where a petite figure was framed against the gray clouds beyond. Yuffie stomped a foot and thrust an accusing finger in Sephiroth's direction.

"The Great Ninja Yuffie isn't finished with you yet, you prissy psycho punk!"

And before Leon could warn her to run, she leapt from the cliff and somersaulted down, right as _another_ figure flew off it behind her.

It was Tifa, and her face was set with a grave determination that chilled Leon's nerves. Sephiroth, Cloud, Tifa—all the players had been assembled now. Maybe Leon had been the one to fall into his trap, but Sephiroth had still managed to lure his quarry into it.

Her feet hit the slant of the slippery cliff side and started to slide, but once Tifa found her balance, she began sprinting straight down the slope. As Yuffie sprang forward to retrieve her weapon, Tifa vaulted off the cliff with incredible speed, a heel angled out to attack Sephiroth, whose smile had taken on a dark, victorious edge. Sephiroth was well aware he had the advantage here.

He avoided her kick with a smooth sidestep, and as he whirled around to face her, she was already launching a series of quick, fierce punches and kicks at him, immediately putting him on the defensive. Sephiroth flew back to avoid them, chuckling, and flashed his sword towards her head, where it swept past her hair as she ducked out of the way.

"_Hya_!"

Then she flew at him again, leaving no room for play.

Everything was happening so fast that Leon didn't even seen Yuffie until she had dove into the fight. Her shuriken swung for Sephiroth's back, but the warrior blocked the assault and still had plenty of time to parry Tifa's powerful fist _and _snap his blade out to strike both of them.

"Whoa!"

Yuffie barely handsprang away in time, but Tifa leapt over it, sailing high, and with a sharp flap of his wing, Sephiroth launched into the air after her.

When Yuffie turned to join them, Cloud stopped her with hoarse command. "_NO_, Yuffie—take Aerith and Squall to safety!"

Leon clenched his jaw. There was _no _way he was going to leave the fight yet. "I'm _fine_," he gritted out as he struggled back to his feet again.

Now that he'd had a moment to rest, his knees felt more like they could support his weight, and the world wasn't spinning as much. His objectives were clear again—get his gunblade, check on Aerith, send Sephiroth back to the darkness where he belonged. And with Sephiroth distracted by Tifa, he could achieve at least one of those.

He had to hurry.

As he ducked into the fray, his instability drove him forward, his stumbling turning into a painful sprint. If he fell now, he wasn't sure if he could get up again, so he just kept going. The sounds of the fight continued on to his left, Tifa and Sephiroth and Yuffie's voices cutting through the downpour, and loudest of all—the slap of his boots against the earth and the rasps of his breath hollowed by his soaked hair over his ears.

And when his gunblade came within reach, he moved without hesitation and dropped to the ground into a slide. He caught the grip of his weapon and wrapped his wet glove around it, dragging it across the ground as he skidded on his knees to a stop right next to Aerith.

Her cold hands rested on his arm, and when he glanced at her, she had her eyes trained to the ongoing battle.

An explosion of darkness knocked Tifa backwards, but she landed in a crouch and slid several feet before she sprang forward again. Her wet hair whipped wildly around her as she spun, roundhouse kicking Sephiroth, who merely blocked the blow and smirked again.

The rain was coming down harder, but Leon could still make out their words as clearly as if he'd been sparring with them.

Sephiroth's sinister amusement: "Are you prepared to see your light vanquished, Cloud?"

Tifa's resolute cry: "Cloud has more than one light!"

Nearby, Cloud was on his hands and knees, wing tensed as he watched the fight with desperate concern, unable to do anything to help, just like Aerith, just like Leon.

As the Masamune swiped towards Tifa's legs, she hopped back, then slammed a foot down on the blade, pinning it to the ground, and before Sephiroth could throw her off, she lunged at him with an elbow to his face.

Sephiroth barely evaded it, and only by teleporting away.

But as soon as he faded out of the darkness again, suspended several meters off the ground, Yuffie leapt into the air with a swift twist, jerking her shuriken around for a vicious attack—

"Foolish girl."

Sephiroth folded his wing and dove to meet her, and as if her strength was _nothing_, he swooped in, snatched one of the shuriken's spokes, and whirled Yuffie around with unbelievable force.

With a yelp, Yuffie streaked through the rain and flew into the cliff side, back hitting the solid rock with a painful _thud_, followed by a scream as her shuriken suddenly stabbed into the cliff with her. Two of its points pierced the rock on either side of her neck, leaving her dangling like a worm on a hook as she held onto them and squirmed and kicked and yelled, trying to get free.

Another hindrance down, Sephiroth shifted his gaze back to Tifa, just in time to see the series of fire spells she shot towards him. The magic sizzled the rain around it, each ball of flame larger than the last, but their flight was short-lived as Sephiroth slashed right through them, dissolving the magic, and then burst through the fragments of fire and smoke to strike her down.

Every move they made was if the entire thing had been choreographed with how Sephiroth's blade always grazed past Tifa, only missing by a hair's breadth, and the way Sephiroth always teleported away just when Tifa seemed to be gaining the upperhand. The two of them read each other well, but Leon knew that this struggle between light and darkness couldn't go on forever. Leon had faith in Tifa's skill, but Sephiroth was both faster and stronger than she was, and she was ill-prepared. Didn't anyone have a damn potion? He could kill for one...

"Leon..."

He met Aerith's calm, encouraging smile, and noticed that her hands hadn't left his arm yet. A soft green glow emanated out from her fingers, and he felt the familiar rush of cool magic like before, only much weaker this time. Sephiroth's Osmose must not have taken all of her magic, then.

He gave her a questioning look that she discerned without him even having to say a word.

"You're more of a help than I can be right now," she said, slipping her fingers away. She could have healed herself, but she had saved her last sliver of magic to help _him_. Her eyes silently urged him onward, reassuring him, as if to say, _I'm fine. Protect the others._

And as much as he wanted to thank her, he could only manage a stiff nod and hoped she understood. The cure spell had been weak, but it had been enough to restore some of the strength Sephiroth had torn away from him.

He slipped an arm around Aerith and gently hefted her up to help her to a safe spot. Behind him, he could hear the fight grow more intense as Sephiroth taunted Tifa.

"And where is this _other_ light to help you now?"

"It's inside all of us!" Tifa cried. "Those of us who care about Cloud! We're his _family!_"

Releasing Aerith, Leon returned his attention to the desperate battle. Though he seemed completely uninjured, Sephiroth's amusement had vanished, and his eyes now reflected all the malice for which he was notorious. Tifa's fists were raised in defense, but Sephiroth stood calmly nearby, sword poised for attack but unmoving.

His wing spread out, soaked feathers glistening like wet silk, and he drew his sword back. "Then you shall _all _perish." His voice then was like the shadows in the corner of Leon's room at night, deep and smooth but dangerous, except Leon knew that the darkness here was hiding a monster. Sephiroth's lashes lowered at Tifa with dark intentions. "Starting with _you_..."

Her lips drew into a heavy line, but the furrow of her brows exposed her true apprehension. She was no match for Sephiroth's cruelty, even with the light on her side.

Leon drew away from Aerith and readied his gunblade, prepared to charge back into the fight.

But this time when Sephiroth and Tifa lunged for each other, there was no barrage of attacks, no dodge, no parry—

Sephiroth met her dead on, sweeping her kick aside before slamming the hilt of his sword into her chin, then striking her hard with its blunt edge. Her two weak spots, and he'd taken absolute advantage of them. She fell back with a twist, hit the ground with a wet crash, and landed on one of her arms. Leon knew from her cry of pain that the rough impact had damaged her arm, and not just a sprain.

_Damn it!! _

"TIFA!"

Cloud fought past the dark spell Sephiroth had on him and managed to shakily climb to his feet, his expression wrought with pain and worry. Tifa lay curled on her side where she had landed, unmoving.

Sephiroth calmly lifted a spread hand high into the air and tilted his face up as if to kiss the rain, his wing arching towards the heavens—and as the storm clouds began to swirl and break away from each other, he slowly lowered his gaze back to Cloud, whose blue eyes burned with a dark fury Leon had never seen in them before.

"Sephiroth, _no!_"

A smirk tugging the corner of Sephiroth's lips once again, he fanned his wing out above him. As the black clouds parted completely, the rain went with them, easing into a drizzle as the sky beyond brightened into a blazing red. The ground began to rumble, pebbles trembling beside Leon's boots.

Something big was coming.

Without further hesitation, Leon rushed forward, gunblade angled to strike, the memory of Tifa and Aerith and Yuffie and Cloud's wounded voices giving him the strength to keep moving. And in that same moment, Cloud's wing slashed the air, and suddenly he, too, was hurtling towards Sephiroth, weaponless but flying at an incredible speed.

They came at Sephiroth from opposite directions, but somehow the warrior was still prepared to meet them. The Masamune was a blur as it struck Leon's gunblade, sparks igniting between them, and before Leon could press for the offensive, he was being shoved away as Sephiroth whirled around, blade slicing through the rain.

Except this time he wasn't aiming to hit. The blurred strike released a sudden shockwave of energy that crashed into Leon and sent him flying back, skittering far across the clearing to the mouth of the trail, where rivulets of rain were cascading over the precipice into the abyss below. The slippery wasteland accelerated Leon's momentum and almost propelled him right off the cliff, but he drove his gunblade into the ground, slowing him enough to catch onto the ledge as he sailed over it.

Heart in his throat, he dangled from the slippery rocks, his gunblade standing upright in the earth and just within reach. Water rushed past him, a threat to his already weak grip, and he squinted past the waterfall towards the fight that continued on without him.

One second, Cloud was slamming into Sephiroth, and in the next, Sephiroth abruptly had him pinned to the crystal wall a meter off the ground, the Masamune's thin blade plunged through Cloud's chest and into the stone beyond.

Another scream of pain shook the air, this one followed by the growl of thunder as the storm clouds rolled together and the rain returned. The fiery sky was gone, and the rain blanketed Radiant Garden once again.

Cloud's black talons curled tightly around the sword's length, but Sephiroth's hold on the Masamune was absolute. Intense eyes narrowing, he shoved the blade deeper, driving it firmly into the stone to keep Cloud stuck like a butterfly pinned for display.

"_Aagh—!_"

Throwing his head back, Cloud wrenched his eyes shut, and his leathery wing shuddered in pain before sagging at his side. Panic flooded Leon as he saw a stream of crimson wash down the glistening blade and mingle with the rain. Sephiroth probably didn't want to kill _Cloud_, but he wasn't making it easy on him, either—the sword had pierced close to his heart.

Leon strained to lift himself over the cliff's edge, one of his hands curling around the blade of his raised weapon and using it to pull up.

"It's been a while since I've seen you this feisty, Cloud," Sephiroth said, and the cruel satisfaction that laced his tone sent Leon's nerves on edge all over again. Sephiroth stepped back, releasing the hilt of his sword, and left Cloud hanging there from the steep slope of the crystal wall. "I'd like to see you stop me this time."

Above them, Yuffie continued struggling with her shuriken as she yelled empty threats to catch his attention, but Sephiroth didn't even glance in her direction as he turned back towards Tifa and approached her with all the composure of an eagle that had already made its kill.

He lifted her by her tangled hair and wrapped his free hand around her neck, holding her high for everyone to see as he began to squeeze, slowly, to cut off her air. A choked sound escaped her, her lashes fluttering as she began to wake, and Sephiroth watched her with his dark smile.

"It seems your light has come to an end..."

"Think again, you pigeon-winged jerk!"

The rock around one of Yuffie's embedded shuriken points had splintered enough for her to free it, and as she planted both of her feet against the rainy face of the slope, she arched her body and shoved, freeing her weapon and herself. Flipping down and landing with only half of her usual grace, she brandished her shuriken and pointed angrily at Sephiroth.

"Let her go, or prepareto taste my fist!!"

Throwing her hand down, she disappeared beneath a sudden plume of smoke—an all-too-familiar stealth tactic of hers—but her agile feet slapping against the rain-slick earth gave her position away. Sephiroth was ready for her when she appeared at his side with her weapon spinning to strike his arms.

Wrenching Tifa around, he slugged Yuffie with her, the shuriken's edges missing Tifa's face by centimeters. With echoing cries, the girls went sprawling to the ground together into a tangle of slippery limbs.

Determined to return to the fight, Leon finally heaved himself over the ledge and collapsed into the stream of water. With a glance back at the crystal canyons surrounding the bastion in the near distance, he swallowed hard and drew in a heavy breath to calm himself down. He never would have survived that fall into the misty abyss.

Tugging his gunblade from the ground, he lifted its blade and pressed a brief kiss to it, silently grateful for its protection. Then he raised his eyes over its polished edge and assessed the battle he was about to leap back into.

Sephiroth yanked the Masamune out of Cloud, who slipped down the rocky slope into a weak slump, his corrupted hand stretched towards Sephiroth as if to stop him. The winged warrior flicked his sword free of blood and water before he closed in on the girls.

"Don't worry, Cloud. This will be quick."

Yuffie managed to sit up with a groan, a hand rubbing her hip, but as Sephiroth's shadow cast over her, she froze and looked up through her bangs with wide eyes. Her hand immediately went for her weapon, but it was trapped beneath Tifa, whose unconscious form had landed on her legs. Without tearing her eyes away from Sephiroth, she frantically shook the older woman. "Wake up—_Tifa_, wake _**up**_—!"

Sephiroth's wet boots stopped in front of them, his sword angled down at their faces. "Enough of your games." Then he drew his sword back, his forearm tensed to swing—

Yuffie screamed and bent over Tifa, her arms curling over her head—

And as the blade came down in a swift, steady, perfect arc, slicing through the air faster than the rain, the solid weight of a gunblade was there to meet it.

Leon's backward slide came to a halt against Yuffie's shivering form, and it took every ounce of his strength to keep his weapon suspended over them as Sephiroth's staggering force threatened to overpower his guard and finish its bloodbath.

"Squall!!"

He couldn't remember the last time he had heard the Great Ninja Yuffie sound so scared.

The Masamune grinded against his blade with an unyielding brutality that felt like he was holding back an entire flood. Arms trembling beneath the pressure, pain racking through his strained muscles, he squinted up through the pounding rain at Sephiroth.

Those green eyes were blazing with an intensity that Leon couldn't even comprehend. They saw straight through him, leaving him feeling close to insignificant in the wake of Sephiroth's fierce power.

But he kept his grip steadfast and clenched his jaw, narrowing his eyes right back at Sephiroth as he released an unrelenting growl.

Sephiroth's dark smile returned. "You refuse to cower like the others." He pressed forward, his wing arched with delight. "You must be begging for punishment."

In a move so quick he didn't even see Sephiroth flinch to do it, the Masamune twisted away and swept past his gunblade.

Leon felt the rush of the blade passing long before he felt the pain—a thin line of red straight across his chest, followed by searing _hell_ as blood wept across his drenched shirt. Then Sephiroth's foot connected hard with his side, rolling him away from the girls, and a scream scorched his throat as Sephiroth sank the sword into his shoulder straight through to the ground.

"_Leon_!"

"SQUALL!!"

Aerith and Cloud's voices were distant through the drum of the rain. He could hear his own ragged breaths and the soft _chink_s as water hit the Masamune, but Sephiroth himself was silent as he slowly rotated the blade to earn himself another scream.

Leon threw his head back, clenching his jaw hard to stifle the cries demanding to be released, and growled deep in his throat. Sephiroth only chuckled.

A foot pressed to the side of his wound as Sephiroth slipped the blade out of him, only for his heel to replace it.

Rasping from the pain, Leon found his voice. "G-Get Tifa out of here! All of you!!"

Sephiroth's boot dug into the deep cut as Leon fought not to writhe in agony, unable to hold back his yells any longer. His fingers clenched against Sephiroth's ankle, weakly trying to alleviate the pressure, but Sephiroth easily kept him pinned.

He cracked his eyes open, vision blurry and his world careening, but he caught a glimpse of Yuffie—hands tucked under Tifa's arms—dragging her to safety.

"Are you that willing to play the martyr?"

Sephiroth's tone was saturated with dark relish.

There was the creak of wet leather, then more weight against his wound as Sephiroth slowly leaned over him, dragging the tip of his blade up Leon's throat as he had before, only this time with less care. As the edge grazed his cheek, it drew blood, and the warmth of the blood melded into the icy rain and slipped down his jaw into the puddles below. The blade lightly traced the cut across his face to the bridge of his nose to connect with his scar, moving Leon's dripping bangs aside to uncover his eyes.

Leon's hand tightened against the grip of his gunblade as he met Sephiroth's gaze. Obsidian feathers spread above him, shielding him against the rain and casting him in shadow, and Leon felt his breath catch as Sephiroth's smile twisted with pleasure.

Sephiroth's slick glove cupped his chin, and the Masamune slipped away. With a curious tilt of his face, Sephiroth studied him with dark admiration. "What makes you think your death will do anything to stop me from getting what I want?"

He didn't.

But that was because Leon wasn't planning on dying.

With a violent jerk of his arm, he angled his gunblade and plunged it into Sephiroth's ribs, driving it past bone and sinew, and squeezed the trigger three times.

The shots rang out, silencing the area with their echoes.

Blood trickled down the blade onto Leon's glove, but his gaze remained unwavering as he wordlessly watched Sephiroth's face. For just that moment, he had seen a flicker of surprise, but now those catlike eyes were narrowing into murderous slits, speaking clearly for Sephiroth without having to utter a word.

_How __**dare **__you._

But when Sephiroth did speak, it was in a tone so quiet, so unsettling, that Leon's thundering heart missed a beat.

"I have a better idea."

Sephiroth's hand clenched into Leon's shoulder and pulled Leon up to meet him, driving Leon's gunblade deeper, inch by inch by inch, without even a grimace or sign of pain. His gray lashes lowered, but his surreal eyes remained level with Leon's as his voice dropped to a dangerous hush.

"You will take her place."

Fingers fisted into Leon's wet hair, and suddenly—

_**CRACK.**_

Fire lanced through his skull and exploded behind his eyes as his head slammed into the ground.

Then...

Comforting darkness.

The pitter-patter of rain faded in and out. The pain dimmed.

Somewhere amongst the gray edges of his mind, he recognized Cloud's voice, hoarse, screaming...

And somewhere beyond the stars swimming in his eyes, he saw his lids open, close, open—Aerith's pink dress—Yuffie's skinny arms under Tifa's—

_They're safe...?_

—close.

Velveteen black enveloped him, an icy and unfamiliar embrace.

He felt his mind slip, slip away...

And was welcomed into the darkness.

-o-o-

_To be continued..._

**Review **and let me know what you think?


	4. Untamed Heart

I was worried about writing this chapter because I felt like it wouldn't live up to the previous chapters (and everyone's expectations), but... I'm crossing my fingers here and hoping that it's at least readable. I must have started and stopped and rewritten this chapter about a dozen times... I'm still not happy with it, but enough is enough!

**Warning: **This chapter contains material that is NOT SAFE for work. Or school. Or parents. Oh, and did I mention there was **slash**?

-o-o-

_**Wake of Darkness**_

_Part Four_

Untamed Heart

-o-o-

The sky was the color of a heartless's skin. Cold and empty, not even a pinprick of a star hiding amongst the muted black. Somewhere, far in the distance, there was a gray horizon and the whisper of water breaking against a shore.

He lay amongst a tangle of dark sheets, listening to the crackle of the blue flames in the candelabra nearby and the thundering of his own heart as he stared up at the foreign sky beyond the latticed ceiling.

He was alive.

He still didn't know how or why, but he was breathing.

And he no longer hurt.

"Take a long look at your hero, Cloud."

Sephiroth sounded pleased, as he should have been. He had won.

Three wings nestled against Leon's side, a jumble of leather and feather and comfort for his fatigued body. And comfort, they did. Here where time seemed so irrelevant, every nuzzle and graze and kiss of wing against bare skin left his mind pleasantly numb.

Why had he resisted this? What had he even been fighting for...?

Gentle fingers swept across his forehead to brush the hair out of his eyes, but several strands snagged on the dried blood of his face. Cloud delicately plucked them free. Then, with slow deliberation, he traced the thin black streak that stretched across Leon's cheek.

Just for a moment, Leon couldn't remember where the mark had come from, but when Cloud's finger came to rest against his scar, the memory rose out of the fog of his thoughts. It had been a present from the Masamune, back at Radiant Garden, which now felt like such an eternity ago. The cut Sephiroth had given him had been healed, but traces of his power had remained.

And as Leon followed the pattern that Cloud made with his finger—an easy slide across his cheek, then a sharp angle over the length of his nose—he realized Sephiroth had extended the scar that he had been trying to cope with for eighteen years.

The mark had always been a bitter memento of his childhood, but it had been _his_. Now when he looked into the mirror, he had no choice but to remember this.

His weakness. Sephiroth. Cloud's ambivalent affection.

And the darkness's quiet pulse as it flowed through him.

-o-o-

_His jacket and gloves rested on a table beside the bed—the worn leather smeared with a sticky maroon over rusty brown. Sephiroth's blood, and his. _

_The last thing he remembered was Sephiroth's hand in his hair and the look in his eyes when Leon had run him through with his gunblade. _

"How **dare **you."

_Then—_

_Pain and darkness._

_With a sinking feeling, he struggled to sit up, but biting back the torture strangling his body wasn't easy. Agony radiated through his shoulder, and his breath caught as a violent tremor shook his body, followed by a flood of nausea._

_For an excruciating minute, his mind went numb as he tried to cope with the anguish. The only way he managed to hold himself together was by squeezing his eyes shut. _

_When it finally subsided, he squinted through his disheveled hair at the two figures who had been watching him from across the room._

_"Your resilience is as amusing as it is impressive... Squall."_

_Sephiroth's voice made his blood run cold. _

_The way Sephiroth had said his real name, it was almost as if he were savoring its sound on his tongue._

-o-o-

Cloud's expression was impersonal, but the mindful way those fingertips traced around Leon's wounds belied that apathy.

'I'll try be careful,' they said, and Leon understood the silent message. Cloud had only agreed to this for one reason. Whereas Cloud wouldn't make him suffer any more than he had to, Sephiroth would maximize that pain. Doing this was Cloud's mercy.

His knuckles brushed against the chilled skin of Leon's stomach as he took hold of his tattered shirt, but when he started to peel it away, the dirty material stuck to his skin where his blood had begun to dry. The yank on his newly formed scab was followed by a fierce sting that radiated out from the wound.

Leon clamped his fingers around Cloud's wrist, sending him a clear warning.

It went unheeded.

Cloud planted a hand against Leon's abdomen to hold him down as he slowly wrenched the material loose, not as careful as he could have been—not with Sephiroth watching them with such unwavering attention.

Every tug tore at the gash across his chest and aggravated it, and Leon gritted his teeth as the sharp burn spread into a blazing inferno, wrangling a tortured sound out of him.

Mercy or no, it hurt like hell.

And even when the ruined shirt was finally torn free, the laceration continued to flare like the sun itself had been buried inside of him.

Fresh lines of blood trickled from the reopened wound, but Cloud made no move to wipe them away. He cast the filthy shirt aside, and Leon fought against a fresh surge of nausea.

The chill of the room crept into him, but what really raised the hair on the back of his neck was the feel of Sephiroth and Cloud's eyes on him, studying every muscle, every freckle, every scar. He felt like a broken doll being appraised for any remaining worth.

He knew it could have been a lot worse. Sephiroth had had a hundred opportunities to end his life during their battle, yet here he was. And with his defenses being stripped from him one at a time, Leon was beginning to understand that this was a game.

"Show him to me."

Hesitating only a second, Cloud obeyed the command, and Leon drew in a sharp breath as Cloud's claw clenched into his hair and forced him off his side and onto his back.

The whipped sword marks across his spine were still raw but no longer bleeding because of the weak healing spell Aerith had granted him, but the stinging reignited as they scraped against the sheets. Vertigo swept through him again, and he spent the next few seconds trying to concentrate through his graying thoughts.

"Hm. With a face like his, I expected him to be shaped more like a woman."

Sephiroth was more than just enjoying this.

He had _planned_ this.

Had he not intended on killing Tifa after all? Or was this the cat playing with its prey?

Cloud's gaze sharpened as he studied Leon's face, and beyond the blue walls of their defenses, Cloud's eyes were swimming with sorrow, regret, curiosity—

Then Sephiroth leaned in.

His gloved fingers swept Cloud's hair away from his ear, and he whispered.

"Now make him surrender. Or I will."

-o-o-

_"Cloud..."_

_The name left Leon unbidden, and it took him a second to realize he had actually said it aloud. His voice was raw and unlike his own, as if Sephiroth had taken the sword to his throat, too._

_Cloud's gaze turned towards him. _

_The light of the blue flames reflected off them as if the haunting color were his own, and Leon thought back to the moment those eyes had first met his on the path to the bastion. He had told Leon to run. _

_But if Leon had turned his back on him then, would things have turned out any better?_

-o-o-

Cloud's lips glided against his own, tentative but warm. New.

Leon couldn't remember the last time he had let anyone this close to him—not that he had a choice in this matter. Cloud had made that clear: surrender and live, or fight and suffer.

His suffering didn't make it any easier to surrender, but he had no strength to stop it, not anymore. If he could have mustered the energy to push Cloud off him or at least fight against the fingers holding his jaw in place, he would have.

He thought about biting down on Cloud's soft lips as they eased his own open, but it was a useless notion. Any of the misery he wanted to give back to them belonged to Sephiroth, not Cloud. Cloud was helping him.

Leon's protests sat at the hollow of his mouth, trapped by the awkward sensuality of the forced kiss. As scared or disgusted or angry as he should have felt about what was happening to him, all he really wanted was for the torment to end—and the sensation of being touched like this was working.

It was... different. Pleasant.

Distracting.

Somewhere beyond the warmth of Cloud's mouth, Leon noticed that a pair of hands were unbuckling his belts, that his shoulder and back and chest still throbbed and ached, and that Sephiroth was watching the two of them with a smile that belonged to a snake.

But when Cloud's tongue parted his lips, there was no room in Leon's mind for any of those things. His protests left him as a sigh instead, his worries briefly buried beneath the pleasant tingle of his lips, then the smooth brush of Cloud's tongue touching his. One of them knew what he was doing, and it wasn't Leon.

Cloud's body pressed his into the bed, and he swallowed the sound of Leon's grimace as his wounded shoulder hit the sheets. The anguish didn't fade, but Cloud responded to the grimace by nibbling Leon's lower lip, diverting his attention with practiced ease.

One by one, Leon's belts clinked open.

When Cloud's lips separated from his with a wet whisper, both of them hesitated, centimeters apart. Cloud's breath was cool against his damp lips, quickened, and Leon cautiously opened his eyes.

Cloud's gaze was vast and cold like the crystal wastelands surrounding Radiant Garden—but the fingers that rested with a brief tenderness against Leon's stomach exposed his true feelings. The touches were a question of concern, and Leon recognized it even through his muddled state of mind. Cloud didn't want to do this anymore than Leon wanted it.

But the fleeting concern didn't go unnoticed by Sephiroth, either.

An elegant shadow, Sephiroth slipped behind Cloud and brushed his blond hair aside with a sweep of his glove. A predator's gaze thinned at Leon as that smile curled with dangerous amusement.

"So you want to treat him as a lover?" he murmured into Cloud's ear, his tone laced with a dark polish that reminded Leon of the obsidian feathers of his wing. "Very well, we'll do it your way."

Cloud stiffened, but then Sephiroth's wing gently nuzzled against his side. Leon watched as the tension melted out of Cloud's shoulders and his leathery wing lifted towards Sephiroth's like a kitten begging for attention.

Leon couldn't believe what he was seeing. The reaction seemed so automatic—as if Cloud had done it thousands of times before, not so much willing as it was almost instinctual.

Sephiroth's lips grazed Cloud's neck as his voice deepened to a low purr. "Let me give you some encouragement..."

Leather-tipped fingers slid with memorized ease, curling around the base of Cloud's wing, as his other hand closed against the front of his pants and squeezed, hard enough for his gloves to creak.

The result was the most erotic sound Leon had ever heard, and Cloud released it in a sharp breath against Leon's lips. Leon's heart turned over on itself as something unnamable stirred inside of it, something hot, something he was embarrassed to admit existed.

He could do nothing but watch and listen, trapped pinned beneath Cloud's body as it trembled in time with Sephiroth's touches as his fingers began to move, massage, and stroke him through his pants. Leon felt it all, right down to the kneading of Sephiroth's hand as it brushed against his own thigh.

Cloud's wing gave a desperate flap as it tried to cope with the sudden onslaught of pleasure, and even Cloud's pale lashes fluttered from the strain of trying to contain himself. But from what?

Leon realized then that Cloud hadn't just been protecting Leon. His neutral stance had been an effort to protect _himself_.

Then something changed about Cloud, his desperation giving way to impatience, apathy becoming eager abandon—

And Leon couldn't get a single word out before slender fingers suddenly buried themselves into his hair. Cloud's mouth claimed his own again, a fervor there that hadn't been present before—

A fervor with an allure Leon had no experience to resist.

-o-o-

_"You sound surprised to see him here," Sephiroth commented as he cast a cool glance in the Cloud's direction. "This is his home." His smirk widened. "And yours... until I decide how to make use of you."_

_The statement probably intended to frighten Leon. It did make his nerves crawl, but more than that—it pissed him off. _

_"Where __**am**__ I?" he demanded. _

_"The borderlands to the World of Darkness," Cloud replied calmly. A little __**too**__ calmly for Leon to feel any better about this. Only half gazing in Leon's direction, he stood with his back to the wall and his arms folded across his chest. _

_He looked... fine. He didn't have a scratch on him. Whatever power Sephiroth had held over him at the bastion was gone, but now it looked like Cloud didn't even want to fight. _

_Why wasn't he still fighting Sephiroth? What had happened to the warrior who had fought beside him and Sora months ago to protect Radiant Garden? What had happened to the man who would rather sacrifice himself than let his shadow rule him? _

_There was no battle here. Sephiroth had already won._

-o-o-

His mind swam with a hundred whys as his pants were tugged open and Cloud's teeth bit down against his bottom lip. The clinking of belts was a distant alarm to him, his head filled with a haze of confusion and misery.

His shoulder throbbed for mercy, agitated by Cloud's wayward passion. But that mercy was gone.

Leon pushed a knee against Cloud's gut to get him to back off, but the fingers in his hair tightened, and he abruptly found himself being shoved onto his stomach.

The world spun on its axis, the air in his lungs rushing out of him as Cloud forcefully twisted his hips so that he was completely face down now. The aggression irritated every one of his wounds, leaving Leon choking on his own groan as he writhed to get free.

It was no use. Cloud's fingers were unyielding, stinging his scalp with their grip, and every shift of his body was encumbered by Cloud's unbending strength. Trying to push him off of him was like being pinned by a wall, and the more he struggled, the firmer Cloud pressed against him—close enough that Leon could feel every movement of Sephiroth's fingers as they worked against Cloud's hardness.

How had Sephiroth bent Cloud so effortlessly to his command? Leon somehow knew it was more than just a matter of indulging Cloud's body. It was as though Sephiroth had awakened a side of Cloud that had been cautiously, shamefully hidden, one that enjoyed obeying him.

Leon sucked in a sharp breath as Cloud's claw curled against his waist, those skeletal fingers were frozen pinpricks against his skin, but this time when he grimaced, Cloud didn't hesitate. His free hand deftly pulled apart the belts on Leon's thigh.

Leon's heart simmered with a silent fury, but as he tried to raise onto his elbows to keep resisting, a hand clenched into his injured shoulder and forced him back down. A tormented cry, muffled by the plush sheets beneath him, fell on deaf ears.

They were Sephiroth's fingers that dug into the sword wound, but they were Cloud's hands that worked Leon's pants down his hips, and it was an inhuman claw that slipped into Leon's underwear.

With the chill of the darkness itself, Cloud's spiderlike fingers curled around Leon's half hard cock and squeezed. His body shivered, but it wasn't from the cold.

No matter how disgusted Leon wanted to be, he couldn't fight the groan that resounded deep inside of him as those fingers began to stroke him towards full erection.

-o-o-

_The room was open-aired, the bed centered directly beneath the latticed ceiling. Decorated columns lined the rectangular floor, the intricate masonry reminding him somewhat of the bastion's dismal décor. The candelabra by the bed wasn't the only one, and their blue firelight cast flickering shadows across the ebony floor in dizzying patterns. _

_Dancing in a supple breeze, the balcony's curtains parted to show what lay sprawled beyond the ivory balustrade—a wasteland of white sand, as smooth as a blanket, peppered with dark boulders. And beyond those boulders: black, twisted structures with electric blue veins, arched over each other like the skeleton of some beast long decayed. _

_Definitely not part of Radiant Garden._

_Parts of his shirt and pants were still damp from his clash with Sephiroth in the downpour, evidence that he couldn't have been stuck in this grim world for too long. _

_Leon's head swam with confusion, intensifying the piercing twinge in his skull. He held a hand to his forehead as he watched Sephiroth watching him._

_"It's rare that an individual with a heart is ever granted an opportunity to visit these lands—or survives the journey through the darkness to reach them," Sephiroth said, his eyes thinning. "You should feel fortunate."_

_Fortunate that he had survived, or fortunate that he had been given access to this colorless wasteland?_

-o-o-

Leon lay trembling, naked, his hands clutching the sable pillows beneath him as the aftershocks of his sudden orgasm wracked his body.

He could feel Cloud's quickened breaths against the sweaty sheen of his back, the rigid heat of his erection grazing between Leon's thighs.

Cloud may not have wanted to hurt Leon, but the darkness wasn't the only thing that stirred inside of him; laced deep in Cloud's husky breaths was a desire that even Leon could discern. But he hadn't made a move to continue, not yet, even though everything about his body language said he wanted to.

Cloud's hesitance had returned. Just one falter, one moment of waver—not even an audible protest. It was a question of 'do I have to do this?' but with the foreknowledge of what Sephiroth's answer would undoubtedly be.

Sephiroth noticed the reluctance. Loud enough for Leon to hear, he whispered again into Cloud's ear. "It's not any worse than what he's already felt today."

And to give them both a fresh reminder, Sephiroth's fingers reached past Cloud and dug into Leon's shoulder. The agony flared instantly, mingling with the pleasure that lingered within his body, and he grit his teeth to stifle the cry that begged to be let out.

Then Sephiroth's hand wrapped around his cock as it had done with Cloud's, and the cry inside of him broke, wrenched free as a groan as the warm leather of Sephiroth's glove tightened and stroked his sensitive length back into arousal.

Every touch hurt, but his body didn't care. It was eager to respond.

Trembling even harder, Leon hid his face against the sheets as Cloud's wing traced a long line down Leon's side. His firm fingers clutched Leon's hip, and his feverish erection pressed against the cleft of his ass.

His nerves already spent from his recent climax, Leon didn't have the strength to resist this time. The fight was over. He'd lost.

Judging from the quiet laugh Sephiroth rewarded him, he didn't think there had even been a battle to win.

-o-o-

_Trying to stay focused, Leon clenched his jaw and glanced at Cloud again, but the other man had his gaze averted, clearly not wanting to get involved. _

_Sephiroth noticed. _

_With a confident stretch of his wing, he slipped his fingers around Cloud's arm and tugged him into the candlelight. _

_"It's not like you to be so shy, Cloud." _

_And when Cloud jerked his arm free, Sephiroth immediately caught it again, the leather of his glove creaking as it tightened around Cloud's wrist. _

_"Hmm, you __**are**__ being defiant today..."_

_Sephiroth's eyes turned back towards Leon, glittering with a wicked delight. He pulled Cloud closer and nuzzled against his temple, earning a grimace from the blond._

_"Is it because of him?" he asked Cloud, his gaze remaining leveled on Leon's. "No need to put on a show for him. Soon he'll understand why you always choose the darkness in the end." _

_He lowered his lips to Cloud's ear, his tone now a sinister hush. _

_"You saw how chivalry failed. He tried relentlessly to protect the ones you care about—more than you have ever done. All you do is run from your light, Cloud. Doesn't that tell you where you truly belong?" _

_Even through all of the misery muddling his thoughts, Leon recognized Sephiroth's words for what they were. Lies. Manipulation. _

_He clenched his hands into the sheets beneath him and steadied his hoarse voice. "If Cloud belonged in the darkness, he would be as heartless as you," he said. "Even after all you've done to him, he still had enough light in his heart to try fighting you."_

-o-o-

Leon had never before wanted to plead for anything in his life, but this took every last ounce of his strength to keep from crying for mercy.

He was being burned alive from the inside out.

Every movement of skin against skin seared straight through him, tearing into his soul and leaving his body in a snarl of raw, aching nerves. Cloud was in agony, too—Leon could feel it in every reluctant thrust, hear it in every hissed breath.

But Sephiroth wouldn't let him stop. His hips rolled into Cloud's, forcing him again into Leon, who gritted his teeth harder and tried not to scream. Cloud's fingernails tore into his skin, his own effort not to fall to pieces as a strained growl rumbled inside of him.

"This could be over in an instant..."

Sephiroth's voice was a silken temptation, though Leon didn't know what for.

Cloud did.

His nails dug deeper into Leon's hip.

"_No_."

"Ease his suffering, Cloud," Sephiroth whispered, the tenderness there nothing more than a charade. "Give it to him. Unless you would prefer my method?"

-o-o-

_Leon didn't miss the tensing of Cloud's wing or the flicker of surprise on his face. _

_That was enough encouragement for Leon to continue. "Cloud knows where he belongs. You're just too blind to see it yourself."_

_"Hm." _

_Sephiroth slid his fingers down Cloud's arm before letting him go. _

_Leon knew better than to get his hopes up. Cloud stayed where he was, his gaze filled with a thousand questions and warnings as he searched Leon's face for __**what**__, Leon wasn't sure—answers, maybe, or hope—_

_But Cloud only let his mask slip because Sephiroth had turned his complete attention to Leon._

_"Then where __**does**__ he belong?" Sephiroth asked. "In the light?" _

_He slunk forward, carrying that predatory grace he had displayed on the battlefield—with the deadly poise of a lion and the unwavering intensity of an eagle's eyes. _

_"With his so-called __**family**__?" He paused at the bedside, towering over Leon, and with delicate fluidity, he folded his glossy wing behind him. "With those who care about him? That is what his __**light**__ claimed."_

_Leon automatically tensed, well aware of how defenseless he was in this situation. Too weak to fight, no weapon to fight with, and no idea where he had been taken… But he forced himself to keep his gaze leveled with Sephiroth's. _

_"Yes."_

-o-o-

It was the shuddery breath Cloud released against his shoulder that told him Cloud had caved. Caved into what, Leon didn't know—the only things his mind could grasp through all of his suffering was _more _pain, _less _pain, and Cloud's rekindled reluctance to do any of it.

A heated face pressed between Leon's shoulder blades, forehead damp with a cold sweat.

Then, breaking through the torrent of agony—

Solace.

A midnight breeze, flowing like a river of cool silk over his heated skin.

It felt like air and water and velveteen perfection all at once, whatever it was, as it blanketed him and settled against his trembling muscles like thousands of butterfly kisses.

Then, one by one by one, they _were_ kisses, countless soft pecks peppering his ravaged body with their supple warmth, and each contact sent soothing sensations drifting through him like streams of molten honey.

Leon's anguish trickled away, leaving a deep serenity simmering inside his veins.

He could still feel Cloud's fingertips digging into his hip, but the tearing pressure was a pleasant burn now. Throughout the rest of his body—his shoulder, his face, his entire backside as Cloud continued to thrust into him—his agony was gone.

How, he didn't know, only that it had dulcified into a satisfying cinnamon candy smolder.

-o-o-

_The line of Sephiroth's lips tightened as he leaned in, his silver hair spilling over his shoulders. _

_"And what about you, Squall? Where do you belong?" he challenged, gaze hardening. "Who cares about you?"_

_Leon's heart gave a soft shudder, and he immediately thought about the concern in Aerith's eyes and the feel of her slender fingers whenever she healed him—about the way Sora had always sought him out first whenever he had visited town and would grin at him with carefree admiration after even the smallest of battles—about how Cid and Yuffie and all the others depended on him, his hesitant advice, his steady hand, even his guidance..._

_He often pretended that their presence weighed on his nerves, tested his patience, and that he preferred being alone—and maybe it was true. But behind that truth, there was another... The truth he rarely admitted to himself. _

_He was scared to be alone._

_Where did he belong? _

_It wasn't often that he faltered, no matter who the adversary. _

_But Sephiroth knew exactly what to say to raise his insecurities._

_"I... don't know." _

-o-o-

A titillating heat seeped deep inside of him and crept over his heart, and he couldn't stop the heady sound that escaped him at the incredible sensations that were igniting within his body.

Cloud's thrusts no longer wrenched anguished reactions—the movement was smooth, sensual, each roll of Cloud's hips driving him firmly into Leon. Gone was Cloud's reluctance. Gone was the torment they had both shared.

Now they were sharing something else, something indescribable and forbidden.

Leon's mind couldn't grasp what it was or what was happening to his body. All he knew was that the pain had vanished and something glorious had wakened inside of him, something he had never felt before, not like this.

Drowning in the growing satisfaction of Cloud's touches, Leon felt himself begin to relax at last, his body welcoming the sweet succor.

Feathery fingers slipped over his cheeks in a weightless caress and tangled in his long hair, too many fingers to belong to Cloud, just like the too many lips that continued to smother his skin with the gentlest of kisses. Leon cracked open his eyes long enough to see who was touching him.

Black ribbons writhed in the air in front of his face, playing with his hair like a satisfied lover.

It was darkness.

All of those touches, all of those inviting kisses to his skin—

Darkness.

Cloud was giving him darkness.

And as Leon tensed and buried his face against the cool sheets of the bed, Cloud unleashed a husky gasp, enjoying it, and the fear that would have trembled Leon's heart became a flutter of anticipation instead.

-o-o-

_Inside, he was telling himself he belonged with his friends and the people of Radiant Garden, that they would fight for him as he had fought for them, that they cared. But he couldn't say it aloud. The words didn't seem to taste right on his tongue. _

_"I'm not the one who matters here," he finished at last. _

_He tensed as Sephiroth gave a flick of his hand, and there, like ribbons of black, darkness suddenly blossomed out of nothingness and snaked around his arms, tugging him to the edge of the bed as Sephiroth cupped his chin. _

_His gloved fingers were warm—a stark contrast with the cold of the darkness constricting around him. "For someone who fought so valiantly, you have an impressive amount of darkness inside of that heart of yours." _

_He hooked his fingers on the front of Leon's belts as he lowered the edge of his wing to brush it against Leon's cut cheek. The corner of his mouth curled with dark promise. _

_"Not unlike how Cloud's once was..."_

_Leon's heart quaked again. He hated Sephiroth with all of his being, but that hatred was powerless in the face of such twisted affection. As sinister as it was, it somehow appealed to his base instincts. He knew it was wrong, but it was almost like his heart was starved for the attention. No one had ever tried to get this close to him before, let alone dare touch him like this. _

_He fought not to cave into Sephiroth's authority, but when he tried to pull away, Sephiroth's grip only tightened around his belts. _

_A threat flickered there in those eyes. "Perhaps it's time you were acquainted with that darkness."_

-o-o-

Without the torture, there was nothing left to ground Leon to the reality of what was happening to him.

As the darkness saturated his very being, Cloud's every touch elicited a spark of pleasure. Leon's fear had no root to sustain it, and so his body began to ease into Cloud's rhythm, seduced by the forbidden thrills singing through him and yearning to feel even more.

Somewhere behind him, close but not as close as Cloud's husky gasps that gusted across his bare shoulders, Sephiroth murmured a delighted tease about Cloud enjoying himself—and it was true. A sharp jerk interrupted Cloud's tempo, followed by a gratified murmur that was half a moan, and Leon knew without looking that Sephiroth had taken charge of the pace.

His hips forced Cloud deeper into Leon, who was hardening again beneath Cloud's shadowlike fingers. His world swam around him, his mind struggling to focus past the heated daze that had so easily snuffed out his fear and distress, but Sephiroth's fierce thrusts made it impossible to rebuild his resistance, and the darkness that slid over every sensitive contour of his body was mercilessly arousing.

Long fingers curled in Leon's hair just as he felt Sephiroth drive harder into Cloud, making Cloud plunge into him, and Leon issued another rich groan.

Sephiroth chuckled, freeing Leon's hair. "So easy... Much easier than you, Cloud. This one was just waiting for a reason to fall."

His hand slipped over the one Cloud had around Leon's erection and gave them a squeeze, earning a wanton cry and an eager thrust. And even through his thundering pulse and his body's scream for completion, Leon could still hear the impish smile in Sephiroth's tone.

"Who knew, with such persistence to play hero, that he was actually just begging for attention."

-o-o-

_His nerves crawling at Sephiroth's words, Leon clenched his fists, itching for his gunblade's familiar weight and peace of mind._

_And he wasn't the only one on edge now. Cloud's postured had stiffened, his wing bristled against his back. _

_"Sephiroth, __**don't**__—" _

_Sephiroth's gaze flicked in his direction, and in an instant, a thick tendril of darkness sprang from the floor and clapped over Cloud's mouth, cutting him off. With a curl of Sephiroth's finger, the shadows then tugged Cloud towards him, right onto the bed. _

_Sephiroth drew his hand through Cloud's blond hair before cupping his chin like he had with Leon. "Do you want to protect him that desperately, Cloud?" The smile that pulled at the corner of his mouth was nothing short of cruel. "Here... I will give you your chance."_

_A tilt of his head—his lips to Cloud's ear—a dark whisper that Leon couldn't hear—_

_And Cloud's blue eyes filling with a furious ambivalence._

_Then they squeezed shut, and Cloud clenched his jaw. _

_"No."_

-o-o-

Sephiroth was a vulture and an angel in one, deadly but beautiful—something Leon couldn't deny no matter how much his hatred for the man seethed inside of him.

Leon kept slipping his eyes open long enough to glance at that ebony wing arched proudly behind Sephiroth's back. Its feathers reflected the room's indigo light with a silky sheen, tempting Leon to touch them.

He never did, though he could have in the position they were in now.

Sephiroth's hands grasped Leon's hips and backside with unquestioning authority, keeping Leon in the straddle he had forced him into minutes ago—had it been only minutes?—and even though Leon would have rather died than let Sephiroth touch him like this, his resistance had crumbled long ago beneath the darkness's seduction.

Panting and shivering, Cloud lay sprawled beside them, relishing in the wake of ecstasy from his exquisite release. From beneath his damp bangs, he watched Leon with an intensity that filled him with a taboo excitement, one that appealed to the darkness festering inside of him.

He didn't even have the strength to focus long enough to feel ashamed.

All he felt was the incredible flashes of pleasure each time he was rocked against Sephiroth's body and took him deeper—harder—slower—because Sephiroth was keen on drawing out his ecstasy and making him feel every sensual glide of their skin moving together.

It was maddening.

Yet when Leon tried to shift away to ease some of his exhilarating torment, the grip on his hips turned possessive and kept him firmly in his place.

Then Sephiroth would give him that dark, dark smile once again, and Leon would feel a deep thrill every single time.

-o-o-

_"__**No**__?" Sephiroth said. "Would you prefer I kill him?" _

_He focused on Leon, releasing Cloud's chin to clench his glove into Leon's dirty shirt. _

_"Or perhaps I could give him a taste of the darkness's hospitality..." _

_Leon tensed even more, but the darkness gave no leeway on his arms as he struggled to free himself. _

_The throbbing burn of his shoulder was excruciating, a continuous stab driving through his shoulder over and over in time with his pulse. The building strain was beginning to make his mind swim again, but he didn't have the energy to fight it—or to fight the feeling of dread that twisted inside of him when Cloud reluctantly looked in his direction._

_"Fine," he said, his gaze lowering. "I'll do it." _

-o-o-

Cloud wasn't given reprieve either; whether or not Sephiroth was giving him commands anymore, Leon had stopped paying attention and started anticipating Cloud's touches, not caring if there was real emotion behind them.

Cloud pressed against his backside, skeletal black fingers stroking Leon's length with a teasing delicacy, as his lips grazed Leon's shoulders with something else—something wary, watchful.

Enticing whispers kissed his ears, neither Cloud nor Sephiroth's voices, but familiar, filling his heart with their hushed siren song.

He knew it was the darkness. The shadows crept around them, between them, within them, tangling amongst their bodies like warm scarves—Sephiroth's, Cloud's, both twisting and playing along his skin all the same. Leon had lost track of whose darkness was where, only that they mingled together as if they belonged that way.

Deep down, buried in the lonely layers of his heart, Leon yearned to belong, too.

And the darkness knew it—that he wanted to belong.

It knew all of his desires, even the ones he had never admitted to himself. It fed off them, _thrived _off them, blooming within him as his pleasure reached its pinnacle.

Black threads seeped out of him, curling out of his numbed wounds—his shoulder, his hip, his cheek, his chest, his shoulder blades, his arm—everywhere Sephiroth had cut into him, everywhere he or Cloud had drawn blood.

Then the threads spread, and he felt himself begin to change.

-o-o-

_"Fine. I'll do it." _

_The gravity of Cloud's tone told Leon that whatever he had agreed to do wasn't going to be pleasant._

_Cloud moved forward, putting himself between Leon and Sephiroth, his heartless-like fingers gliding through the strands of darkness like a knife through smoke. The shadows peeled away from Leon. _

_He collapsed onto the mattress, drawing in a haggard breath as white-hot agony lanced through his shoulder from the impact. _

_Then he felt Cloud's claw curl against his arm, gentle as he pressed Leon to the bed. His pointed fingertips were as cold as ice, unlike the heat of his breath as he leaned in to whisper in Leon's ear._

_"Relax." _

_Leon couldn't._

_Even if his muscles felt like the frayed ends of a beaten rug, even if every twitch he made set off a supernova of pain in every injury he had sustained, even if he knew that trying to resist would make it harder on himself in the end—_

_He still didn't believe in surrendering._

-o-o-

He heard his own scream resonate throughout the dark world, torn between two climaxes, but this time the pleasure couldn't mask the anguish as something twisted inside of him and broke free.

It ripped through his shoulder blade, pushing past muscle and tearing skin, and burst out of his back.

One wing.

Just like theirs.

Its growth was instantaneous, just a leathery branch stretching out from his back at first, but countless white feathers pushed out of the deep purple skin and tapered off, filling the wing with a plumage almost as impressive as Sephiroth's.

Then its nerves came alive all at once, an explosion of white-hot sensations, and Leon snapped the wing open as another scream spilled out of him, wrought with every emotion that had been buried inside of his sealed heart. Head thrown back, Leon rode out the flood, letting Sephiroth's hands and body guide him through it, his wing drawn tight and arched high, trembling hard.

And when it was over, a dizziness swept through him, the magnitude of his wing's birth and his climax leaving him dazed and breathless. He collapsed against Sephiroth's solid chest and loosely clutched his arms. He was still driving into Leon, who could feel every ripple of those muscles around him, in him, and even hear the firm hammering of Sephiroth's heart beneath his ear.

Tendrils of shadow laced between the dirtied feathers of his new wing, delicately cleaning the blood and film that coated its still quivering form. More darkness continued to feed into his wounds—or what had once been wounds.

His body was still changing, and the disappearing lacerations along his skin were only the beginning of what the darkness had to offer him. Wherever it touched, it left a wake of its power behind.

-o-o-

_A heavy shudder wracked his body as he struggled, knowing that if he was at full strength, he could have easily freed himself. But as he was now, Cloud had him easily pinned. _

_"Get off me," he gritted out._

_Cloud's claw released him only to dig into his hip a moment later, and its piercing grip was a clear warning. Even though it was hardly audible, his tone grew resolute, carrying a quiet desperation. _

_"You can't die. I need you to protect them. Deal with this, and he'll let you go alive. But if you keep fighting..."_

_He didn't have to finish his sentence. _

_If Leon kept fighting, Sephiroth would resume his torture games, and Leon may never leave here alive. He hadn't really expected to in the first place, but Cloud's words almost... gave him hope._

_Their eyes met._

_Leon again thought about the moment he had seen the blue of Cloud's eyes there in the trail to the bastion, and Cloud had told him to run. He thought about how much that blue reminded him of Sora's—_

_Sora, who always followed his heart and protected his friends, no matter what the cost. _

_Then Leon remembered the feel of Aerith's hand and the soothing melody of her voice as she had lent him her strength, fearless there in the face of Sephiroth's wrath. 'Don't give up,' she had said._

_He was beginning to understand that surrendering here wouldn't be admitting defeat. _

_It would be one step closer to freedom._

-o-o-

The heartless-colored sky was fading into a Nobody gray now.

He'd lost track of how long he'd been drowning in these feelings, how long the darkness had been feeding into him, how long Sephiroth had been raping his pride. Hours, maybe—or days; wrapped in their cocoon of darkness, time no longer existed to him.

Cloud gently touched the scar on his face and traced it, his eyes filled with a solemn apology. Despite all of Cloud's struggles and all of the light that existed within him and the people who waited for him to come home, Cloud continued to chase Sephiroth's shadow.

And now Leon understood why. It wasn't that he couldn't escape it.

It was _part_ of him.

Deep down, Cloud's heart _wanted _it.

The real struggle wasn't with Sephiroth, it was with the darkness that already existed inside of him.

Sephiroth's arms pulled his exhausted body into a strong embrace, and Leon felt his heart stir with a dark fervor that hadn't been there before. Palms slid along his tired limbs with appraising but possessive attention, and this time, Leon didn't deny his satisfaction.

As he fanned his wing and arched into the touches, he felt Cloud's steady hand rest against his thigh as he leaned in. There, through the comforting pulse of the darkness coursing through him, he heard Cloud's quiet warning.

"Give in, but don't give _up_."

Those words would set the foundation for what would become Leon's reconstructed resistance.

But for now, Leon slowly slipped his eyes closed and reveled in the feel of Cloud's tainted fingers touching his tainted wing as they welcomed the darkness again, this time together.

-o-o-

* * *

_To be __**concluded**__..._


	5. Epilogue: Wake

This has been one of my most favorite stories to write. It's really grown into a lot more than what it started off as, and along the way, I've found confidence in my ability to write action sequences. I want to thank everyone who's reviewed this story—your encouraging words were some of the best feedback I've ever gotten!!

-o-o-

_**Wake of Darkness**_

_Epilogue  
_Wake

-o-o-

The dreams were always the same.

Familiar faces twisted in agony, bodies wrangled and tortured and broken—Aerith's long hair and dress matted with blood, Tifa's nude corpse strung up like an offering, Yuffie dismembered by her own weapons, Cid and Donald and Goofy and Merlin and Mickey—_everyone_—except Sora—

Sora, blue eyes filled with tears and fury, as he stood before him clutching that magical key of his, demanding over and over and over—

_WHY WHY __**WHY**__?!_

And all Leon could do was spread his crimson-stained hands in surrender, as his lips curled into a sinister smile.

Sometimes Sora died. Sometimes Leon did.

Often, his friends' fates were different—sometimes they were still alive by the end, but more often than not, he watched himself slaughter them in ways he never could have imagined before the start of all of this.

Yet no matter how the dreams changed, they were still the same: consumed by the darkness, Leon would hurt the people he cared about the most.

They were warnings, he knew.

But he didn't need any more reminders of what was now living inside of him. He got enough of that whenever he woke from his nightmares, mind spinning and pulse racing, and stumbled to his bathroom mirror to look at himself.

He stood there now, breathless and trembling and covered in a sheen of cold sweat, his knuckles bone white as he clutched the sink in front of him. His reflection looked as bad as he felt, but at least the details hadn't changed.

Same tainted marks, same mismatched eyes, same one wing.

The darkness hadn't spread in months, not since he had been released from Sephiroth's dark sanctuary.

Released, not escaped. After having his fun, Sephiroth himself had let Leon go, leaving him standing at the edge of the borough and squinting into the brilliant Radiant Garden sky, empty-handed except for his gunblade and the remains of the clothes he had disappeared in.

There had been no farewell, no promises to return, no traces of caring at all what happened to him.

At the time, Leon'd had no idea how much time had passed since Sephiroth had taken him into the World of Darkness. It wasn't until he'd walked right into the marketplace that he had noticed the reactions of the people around him.

There was nothing like being greeted by startled gasps and pointing to welcome a person home. Though it had felt like only hours, Leon had been Sephiroth's captive for weeks.

The darkness did that to you. Once you submitted, it twisted your reality into its own, feeding you pleasure upon pleasure to keep you trapped within its eternal prison, as it slowly transformed you from the inside out.

And Leon hadn't escaped unscathed. Their startled reactions hadn't been because they were surprised he'd survived or they were happy he was back—

It was the wing he had held aloft behind him.

That was when he'd understood why Cloud had taken to hiding his in the beginning. It attracted too much attention, made people treat him differently, reminded them he wasn't completely human any longer.

Now, as he gripped the edge of his bathroom sink, his wing hung in the air beside him like a wilted flower, quivering a little as his body slowly recovered from his nightmare.

It was a beautiful wing, a blend of bat and bird, separated into three segments by long, deep purple points tipped in crimson, with soft white feathers growing between the leathery segments. But as beautiful as it was, it was a neverending reminder of what he had become.

Glaring into the mirror, he swept an arm over his forehead to wipe his sweat away, brushing his bangs aside in the process. He hesitated when he caught sight of the other gifts Sephiroth and Cloud's powers had given to him.

A black line stretched across his cheek and fed into his scar, that corner of his face tainted by the darkness—which showed in his eye. No longer a slate gray, his iris gleamed with a lustrous silver, slit like a wild animal's.

Just looking at it made his stomach churn. He carefully fixed his bangs to hide the eye from view as he'd been doing for months.

Some things he couldn't hide as easily, like his wing, but he had found ways to conceal most of the others beneath his clothes: the crisscrossed black lacerations across his back, the dark skin of his shoulder and the crescent moon of white feathers growing from it, the other thin arc of feathers on his hip, the tainted skin of his arm and side and chest...

All of them had come from the same place Cloud's tainted arm had. When the darkness had healed his wounds, it had given him more than peace of mind—it had turned his scars into trophies.

Tearing his eyes away from his haggard reflection, he grabbed the silver necklace resting nearby.

The girls had recovered Griever from the battlefield and mended the chain to give to him as soon as he'd returned home, only they hadn't known for sure that he would. But he had, just like Cloud always came back. They hadn't anticipated the changes in Leon, either—both inside and out.

Leon slipped his necklace on and turned away from the mirror, taking a moment to rest heavily against the sink. The lion's head pendant rested centered over the streak of corrupted skin on his chest, and he clasped a hand around it, feeling his rapid heartbeat against his fingers.

It was like this almost every morning.

Nightmare. Mirror. Bad memories.

And the stench of darkness.

That one never left, either—the ever-lingering scent of the darkness's taint. Those who hadn't been touched by the darkness couldn't smell it, but he could.

Sometimes, when he couldn't stand being surrounded by it anymore, he would smother his shame and purposely lose himself in old routines—sparring at the falls, helping bastion reconstruction, gardening for Aerith, running errands for Tifa or Cid or Merlin.

Today would have been one of those days, but he had already made plans.

He followed his usual routine, showering while trying not to touch his sensitive feathers or tainted skin more than he had to, then took a few minutes to check his wing for loose feathers before he bothered drying off. On went his usual attire, with all of his shirts and even his old jacket mended with care to fit his wing, thanks to Aerith.

Aerith, who was one of the only people who went out of her way to see him now, to check on him, to make sure he was eating properly and wasn't too lonely or whatever.

Tifa, on the other hand, couldn't look him in the eyes anymore—guilt, maybe, for letting Sephiroth take him instead of her. Leon had fought to protect her; he didn't blame her for what had happened anymore than he blamed Cloud or Aerith or Yuffie. But whenever Tifa looked at him, there was shame where pride should have been.

Merlin and Cid treated him the same as they always had, but even Yuffie had taken to tiptoeing around him these days.

But it didn't matter. Leon had resigned himself to the same fate Cloud had.

As he stooped down to pull on his boots, he saw a single feather resting harmlessly at the foot of his bed, a stark obsidian instead of his silvery white.

He plucked it from the floor and held it up. The light streaming through his bedroom window cast against the black gloss of the long feather, making it gleam a deep indigo and magenta depending on the way he rotated it. Shades of the darkness itself.

His fingers closed around the feather, crushing it.

The stray feathers were becoming a daily occurrence, evidence that Sephiroth was up to something—maybe another attempted attack on Tifa? Or maybe Sephiroth would come straight to Leon this time.

Whatever.

Sephiroth could watch him all he wanted—Leon didn't care.

He pulled his boots on, fixed his bangs over his silver eye again, and left his small house, gunblade sheathed at his side.

Wing arched behind him, he walked with calm resolve through the borough streets and ignored the stares and whispers he always attracted. He had learned to accept them, though it hadn't been easy at first.

These were the people he fought to protect, and this was the home he had yearned to restore for the past eleven years; he wasn't going to give them up because they couldn't understand what he had gone through. He wasn't going to hide or run away, not like Cloud had. That was what Sephiroth wanted.

Leon was going to keep fighting.

_Give in, but don't give __**up**__._

One day he'd face Sephiroth again. He'd look him in the eyes, see the dark smile that haunted his memories, and he would fight—fearless, unfaltering, and without using the dark gifts Sephiroth had bestowed upon him.

He would fight, and he would win.

And he wouldn't do it alone.

He passed through the borough and bailey, tracing old familiar steps—the same steps he had taken the day he had found Cloud sprawled out on the path in front of him. His boot treads still hadn't worn into the trail yet.

The fountains along the bailey wall trickled with the same comforting melody. Overhead, the sun glimmered with its morning radiance, only a few cottonball tufts of white scattered throughout the vast blue surrounding it.

The gate to the reconstruction zone was closed, just like Cid wanted it.

Not a heartless stirred, just like that fateful day, only this time it wasn't Sephiroth's doing. Cid and Tron's protective program was hard at work, now preventing the creatures from straying even this far.

But instead of turning towards the bastion, Leon passed through the remnants of a once beautiful plaza and descended the path into the crystal ravine that stretched far beyond the bailey and its curtain walls.

There at the mouth of the ravine was Cloud.

He waited patiently against Fenrir, the motorbike Cid had helped him build over the last few months using scraps of gummi Sora had left them during his last visit months ago. Arms crossed, Cloud seemed calm, his wing even hanging relaxed beside him.

Leon approached him, silent except for the scuff of his boots against the crystal wasteland. He folded his wing as he came to a stop in front of him, automatically glancing at the long sleeve and glove hiding Cloud's corrupted arm. And though a pair of tinted bike goggles hid Cloud's eyes, Leon knew Cloud was studying him right back.

"Hey," was Leon's greeting.

Cloud pushed away from his bike. "You're late."

"Yeah."

There was no question of why. Cloud already understood because he had the same dreams. He had never said so, but Leon didn't have to ask. After all, they shared the same darkness.

When Sephiroth had released Leon, Cloud had shown up a week later.

Same story—Cloud hadn't escaped. No, Sephiroth had let him go, probably to continue his twisted game of cat and mouse with Cloud. Only this time Cloud wasn't alone. Tifa and Aerith and the others could pretend they knew what Cloud was going through, but the only one who knew the truth was Leon.

"Get on," Cloud said, offering him a second pair of goggles as he slid onto his bike.

Leon slipped them on and hoisted himself onto the seat behind him. He wrapped a firm arm around Cloud's waist, and Cloud's leathery wing curled against his side, used to this by now.

Leon felt the rev of the engine come alive beneath them, its soothing growl rumbling throughout the crystal wasteland that had become their playground.

The behemoths and wyverns of Villain's Vale, the defenders and wizards of the Rising Falls, the neverending hordes that dwelled within the Misty Abyss—no legion of heartless lasted long beneath their synchronized assaults. And when they ran out of heartless, neither of them had qualms about turning their blades on one another.

They had no better teachers than themselves, and no better motivation than the wake of darkness they saw in each other.

And this time when Sephiroth returned to play, both of them would be ready.

Leon clenched a fist into Cloud's shirt and murmured into his ear.

"Let's go."

Cloud glanced back at him just for a second, and Leon thought he saw a trace of a smile there. Then Cloud kicked off from the ground, accelerated the bike, and they sped off into the wasteland together.

-o-o-

* * *

_Fin._


End file.
